


Changeling

by Jillybeanjoy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholism, Broken Foster Care System, Bullying, Changeling - Freeform, Child Abuse, Dead Twin, Enemies to Lovers, Escape Attempt, Faeries - Freeform, Fairies, Fairy, Father Son Bonding, Fay - Freeform, Found Family, Framing, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Murder, Slavery, Slow Burn, Suicide, cole is Connor’s dead twin, fae, fey, forced obedience, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jillybeanjoy/pseuds/Jillybeanjoy
Summary: When the DPD’s investigation gets too close to the discovery of Fae, Detective Connor Anderson is replaced by a changeling in order to keep the investigation from revealing the truth.In the Feywild, Connor meets others who have been replaced and they try to work together to escape. They are able to escape their imprisonment, but cannot find their way out of the Feywild.In the human world Connor’s changeling struggles with identity and a sense of self when his entire identity is being Connor but not being Connor. And he struggles with the morality of replacing Connor who has been kidnapped to the Feywild when he learns to love Connor’s friends and family and agrees to help them bring Connor back. While working on rescuing Connor though, the changeling struggles because all he wants is to be loved the way Connor is loved.
Relationships: Connor & Alice Williams (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Gavin Reed, Connor/Kara (Detroit: Become Human), CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60/Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Kara & Alice Williams (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 27
Collections: DBH AU Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

It was a sunny day at a small park on the outskirts of Detroit. Children ran and screamed and played on the equipment. One young girl was chasing other children in a game of tag while her mother watched from close by. 

Finally the girl grabbed a boy by the coat, shouting joyfully, “Tag! You’re it!” before she ran in the opposite direction to avoid getting tagged back. 

Before long, the girl grew tired and went over to her mom, who was now talking to another mom on a bench. “Mom, I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Alright, sweetie, it’s right over there. I can see it from here.” 

The girl pulled at her mother’s sleeve. “Can you come with me?”

“Sweetie, you’re nine years old. You can go to the bathroom by yourself,” she insisted. “I can see it from here. You’ll be fine.”

The girl pouted as she made her way over to the bathroom. As she walked in someone came in behind her, and before she could look a hand was clasped over her mouth. 

She twisted, tried to pull away and fight but the hand was unusually strong for its size. As she fought she began to feel dizzy. Her eyes grew heavy before she fell to the ground at her attacker's feet. 

The attacker grabbed her and pulled her up to her knees, putting a hand on each side of her head as a low light emulated from their hands. When the light faded, the girl disappeared, leaving a doppelgänger of her standing in the middle of the bathroom. 

After a moment the girl's mother came in, looking around the bathroom before her eyes landed on the double of her daughter in front of her. “Kara, sweetie, everything okay?”

The changeling looked over to the mother. “Coming, mom.” 

—————

25 years later

—————

A black teen got off the school bus and stood in front of a small dirty house. There was junk littering the front yard and the house itself was falling apart. The young man pulled in a breath before heading inside what was supposed to be his home. 

Shaolin Being had been living at this house for six months now. Ever since his mom died, leaving him alone. Now he lived with Carlos Ortiz, his foster father. 

Shaolin walked in the house and could already tell it was going to be a bad day. He could smell the smoke that told him his foster father was high again. He quietly put his bag down by the door and tried to creep into his bedroom without his foster father hearing him. 

“Shaolin!” He heard a yell. Shit. He hadn’t made it. 

“Yeah?” he said hesitantly. 

“Get in here, you little shit,” Carlos demanded of him. Shaolin walked away from his door, away from his sweet sanctuary, and towards the living room where his foster father sat on the couch. He took a drag from his glass pipe before setting it down on the coffee table. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing, I was just going to my room to do my homework,” he told him. 

“This place is a fucking mess and I’m sick of it. You clean the fucking house and then you can do your  _ ‘homework’,’”  _ Carlos told him. 

Shaolin sighed. “Yes, sir.” He turned to do as he was told when Carlos stood up and grabbed him by the arm. 

“I don’t need your sarcastic little attitude you prick,” Carlos spat. 

“I wasn’t being sarcastic,” Shaolin assured. 

“You think I can’t tell when someone is disrespecting me? You think I don’t know what you're thinking?” He shoved Shaolin, causing the young man to almost fall. “I’ll show you, you little shit.” Carlos grabbed a baseball bat that he had leaning up against the couch’s arm.

Shaolin raised his arms, trying to protect his face as the baseball bat came down on him with a  _ crack. _ Shaolin fell to the floor with the force, but quickly scrambled up again. Before Carlos could swing again he ran, bolted to the other room. He raced through the living room, past the hallway and came into the kitchen. He looked around himself, looking for anything to help him. 

Before he could move the bat smashed into the wall beside him, missing narrowly. Shaolin ran toward the sink, trying to get away from Carlos. 

That’s when he saw it.

The knives. 

Shaolin grabbed one of them and turned around and just before the bat swung and hit him again he stabbed into Carlos’ torso. Carlos dropped the bat to the floor. 

He stabbed him again. And again. 

Carlos tripped over the kitchen chairs, trying to back away. Shaolin followed him through the hallway into the living room, swiping and stabbing again and again. 

Carlos fell at the couch, tripping over bottles of alcohol. Shaolin grabbed him and pushed him before stabbing him again. Over and over again until Carlos stopped moving. Then again, over and over until he was long dead. 

Shaolin sat on the back of his heels over the body. Then he heard something outside. Holy shit. He just killed him. He just killed a man. He just killed his foster father. 

The police were going to come. They were going to take him away. He was going to go to jail. Boys who looked like him were put in prison for less. He would never make it in prison. 

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. 

He scrambled to his feet and ran into the hallway. He considered going out the back door.  _ The back door. Why didn’t he go out the back door to begin with? Why did he go to the kitchen?  _ But where would he go? What would he do? 

He looked across the back door and towards the other end of the hallway and his eyes fall on the ladder. And go up to the ceiling where the attic was. He rushed to the ladder, pulling it up under the hatch to the attic and crawling in before pulling up the ladder in after him. He laid the ladder down and crawled back towards the end of the attic. 

He had to hide. He couldn’t be found. 

He killed a man.

—————

Hank Anderson turned off his car, cutting off Knights of the Black Death mid-song. With a groan he got out of his car and went into the ramshackle house. Ben Collins was waiting for him outside the house. “About time you got here,” Ben greeted. 

“Tried not to come, Jeffrey made me,” he complained. “Tell me what happened.”

Ben started moving towards the house and Hank followed him. “We had a noise complaint, neighbors heard fighting and called the police. Pretty common occurrence by the sounds of it. Officers who came by found the body.”

Hank entered the house and saw the body leaning up against the wall. “The victim’s name’s Carlos Ortiz. He has a foster kid that’s also missing. Shaolin Being. According to the neighbors, he was kind of a loner. Stayed inside most of the time, they hardly ever saw him.”

Hank kneeled on the ground next to the body. “There’s a kitchen knife over here. Probably the murder weapon,” Ben told him. 

“Any sign of a break in?”

“Nope. The landlord said the front door was locked from the inside, all the windows were boarded up. The killer must’ve gone out the back way.” 

“What do we know about the foster kid?”

“Not much. He wasn’t here when we arrived. We’ll call in the morning to see if he’s been absent at school or not.” Ben stopped himself “Make yourself at home. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Hank started by investigating the corpse. There was powder, it looked like red ice, on Ortiz’s lip. The body had somewhere around thirty stab wounds just looking at him. Seemed like the killer really had it out for him. 

Hank stood up and made his way over to the murder weapon. The house was even more messy inside than it was outside. It was hard to tell what was from the struggle and what was just him living in his own filth. After examining the weapon he looked out at the coffee table where there definitely was red ice. 

Hank then made his way through the house, following the blood trail through the living room, through the hallway and into the kitchen. In the kitchen the table and a couple chairs were knocked over on the ground. On the floor next to the table was a baseball bat with blood on it. 

There weren't any marks on the body that looked like blunt force trauma. Just the stab marks. So it was probably the killer’s blood on the bat. 

Over by the sink, the kitchen knives were hung up on the wall, one of them missing. Most likely the murder weapon in the living room. 

From what evidence he gathered Hank figured it started in the kitchen. There was no sign of a break in so it was probably someone the victim knew and let into the house. Or was already in the house, like the foster kid who is missing. The victim hit the killer with a baseball bat. The killer took the kitchen knife off the wall and stabbed him. The victim fled to the living room, trying to get away. The killer murdered the victim with the knife. 

The question was, was this someone let into the house who attacked the victim and the victim defended himself? Or was the victim attacking the poor foster kid and the foster kid was defending himself? Hank’s gut told him it was the latter. Now they just had to find the kid. 

He was definitely injured from the bat. Hank went into the hallway and opened the back door. He looked out into the garden and most importantly, to the dirt surrounding the steps. There was one pair of footprints in the mud. “Has anybody been out here?” Hank called out.

Ben came over to him. “Yeah I went out there. Didn’t see any footprints.”

“So these are your footprints here? Then the killer’s still here,” Hank realized and went inside to search the house. 

He went into the living room and saw a closet door. He went over and opened it but no one was inside. He looked around and went into the hallway. There was another closet at the end of the hall. He opened it and was startled as a mop fell on top of him. Ben laughed from behind him and Hank grumbled grumpily. He turned to the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain. Nothing. 

Mother fucker, where was he?

He went back into the hallway and noticed against the wall a ladder was missing. He looked up and saw an attic door on the ceiling. Perfect. Hank went back into the kitchen and grabbed one of the chairs and brought it under the door. With a huff he opened the door and pulled himself up into the attic. 

The attic was cluttered. Hank looked around and saw an outline of someone on the other side of a shower curtain. He walked over silently and pulled the shower curtain back but it ended up just being a mannequin. 

Hank breathed a sigh of relief and turned around to leave when he heard something fall further in. He crept over and suddenly a young black kid covered in blood jumped out, trying to run. Hank grabbed him and pushed him back. 

The kid looked at him, fear in his eyes. “I was just defending myself.” His voice turned into a whisper. “He was going to kill me.” He looked to the attic door and then back at Hank. “I’m begging you, don’t tell them.”

Hank sighed. “I’m sorry kid. You’re going to have to come with me.”

A look of betrayal crossed his face as he followed Hank out of the attic.

—————

Hank sat opposite Shaolin Being in the interrogation room. “Why did you kill him?” he asked. 

_ Why did you kill him, Shaolin? Why did you do it? The  _ real  _ Shaolin wouldn’t have. You’ve ruined everything. You  _ murdered _ someone.  _

Hank sighed. “Come on, kid just tell me what you said at the house. Why did you kill him?” 

_ The house. He should have never stepped into that house. He should have stayed at school, done his work there. He should have never stepped into that house. He should have refused, never once step foot in it. He should have known better.  _

_ The house. The house where he was beat every god damn day. The house where he feared for his life. The house where he killed someone.  _

_ What has he said at the house? “I was just defending myself. He was going to kill me. I _ _ ’m begging you don’t tell them.” _

_ But he did. Of course he did. This man wasn’t on his side. Some fat old white dude? He was going to put him away for good. If he survived that long.  _

“What happened before you took that knife?” He tried again. “How long were you in the attic? Why didn’t you try to run away?” 

_ Why didn’t you try to run away, Shaolin? Why did you ever think to fight? How could you fight for your own life. You should have run.  _

_ Run where? Before he killed him, after he killed him, where was he supposed to go? He had no friends, no relatives to go to. He had no one. He was completely and utterly alone.  _

Hank snapped his fingers in front of his face. Shaolin didn’t even flinch. 

Anger flared in Hank’s face and he slammed his hands on the table. “Say something goddamnit!” 

_ What was he supposed to say? What could he possibly say that would make any of this better? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He’d only make it worse.  _

He scoffed and shook his head. “Fuck it. I’m out of here.” he said, standing up. He looked to the one way mirror and told the officer on the other side. “Come take him back to his cell.” 

Hank opened the door and the officer was there, coming in to take Shaolin away. Shaolin’s eyes went wild. 

_ No. He couldn’t be taken away. No one can know. No one can find out. They’ll kill him for this! _

When the officer went to uncuff him and pulled back. “Leave me alone! Don’t touch me.”

_ They’ll kill him for this. Or worse. They can’t find out. They can’t. He has to do something. He can’t go back after murdering Carlos.  _

The officer grabbed him but he struggled against him. “Chris, you gonna move this asshole or what?” Hank complained.

“I’m trying.” Chris grunted. 

_ He won’t go with them. He can’t. He doesn’t want to die.  _

While Chris was distracted responding to Hank, Shaolin grabbed the officer’s gun and before anyone could react he put the gun under his chin and shot himself.

Hank let out a shuddered, “Holy shit,” as he looked at the dead body of the young boy.

—————

It was late when Hank came home. He immediately went past Sumo who was sleeping on his bed and over to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and sat down at the kitchen table and drank straight from the bottle. 

Dark thoughts circled him. Shaolin was a kid. A fucking child. Hank knew what happened. That good for nothing foster dad had beat him with a baseball bat. As Shaolin said in the house, he was just defending himself. All Hank needed was for him to say it in the interrogation room. 

Why didn’t he say anything? All Hank needed was for him to tell the truth and Hank could have protected him. But the stupid kid wouldn’t say anything. 

Was it Hank’s fault? Maybe if he said something different? If he said the right thing then maybe Shaolin would have talked. Maybe if he said something different Shaolin wouldn’t have killed himself. 

That poor kid killed himself. Now there wasn’t just one body but there were two. And both of them because someone who never should have been a foster parent was given a defenseless child. 

Hank drank more from the bottle. Hank jumped as he heard the door to Connor’s room open and close. He looked behind him as Connor walked into the room. Connor glanced at the bottle and seemed to deflate a little. “Bad day at work?” 

Hank groaned. “It was a tough one, not gonna lie. We caught this kid who killed his foster dad. During the interrogation he took the gun off Chris and turned it on himself.”

“Holy shit.” Connor wasn’t expecting that. He sat opposite his father.

Hank scoffed. “Yeah. Exactly. Not looking forward to all the paperwork I’ll be doing over  _ that. _ ” Connor knew it was more than just the paperwork that bothered him but didn’t say anything. “Anyway, you should be in bed. Your first day as a detective is tomorrow. Are you nervous?” Hank asked. 

“No…” Connor lied. “Okay… maybe a little.” 

Hank laughed good naturedly. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve done so much to get here, and I’m proud of you, son.” 

Connor smiled at him. “I know, Dad. I’ve wanted this for years and I’m excited that the time has finally come… I’m just worried about who I’m partnered with…” he admitted. 

“Reed still giving you trouble?” 

“He wouldn’t be Gavin if he wasn’t,” Connor sighed. “Let’s just hope that now that we’re the same rank and partnered together that things get better.” 

“If not I could always ask Jeffrey to place you with someone else,” Hank offered. He was good friends with the captain since childhood. Connor knew that all it would take was one conversation and Connor could be placed with almost anyone else.

“No, I can handle it.” Connor didn’t want to use his father to get what he wanted. Then he would be everything Gavin thinks he is. The kind of asshole who used nepotism and favoritism to get where he was. No. He was going to  _ earn  _ his place. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor has his first day as detective and it doesn’t go well. Shaolin’s body goes missing and it makes problems for some powerful people. Then Amanda comes up with a solution...

When they arrived at the precinct for the first day of Connor being a detective, Hank went over to his desk while Connor went to his new one across from Reed’s. A name plate sat on the mostly empty desk that read  _ Detective Connor Anderson _ . Connor grinned at it, excited to finally have gotten here. Gavin’s desk was empty as well, with Gavin was nowhere to be seen. 

Connor looked around the station until he saw his new partner in the break room. He made his way over and Gavin was talking to one of the beat cops, Chris. Once Connor walked in Gavin laughed. “Hey, hey, hey. Look what we have here. The rookie detective,” he clapped sarcastically. 

“Hello, Detective,” Connor greeted. 

Gavin walked over to him. “Surprised to see you without Daddy Anderson. Did you finally learn how to make coffee on your own?” 

Connor bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something he’d regret. “I was hoping with us being partners now that we could get past this…” 

“Oh sure, oh sure,” Gavin said, looking back to the beat cop with a snake-like grin. Then Gavin turned back to Connor and punched him in the gut. Connor doubled over in pain as Gavin took a step back. “Now get me a coffee, dipshit,” he said, walking out of the break room. Chris followed him, leaving Connor alone in his pain. 

After Connor recovered from the punch he stood up and made two coffees, setting one on his desk and one on Gavin’s. Gavin opened his mouth to say something but before he could they were called into Fowler’s office. 

They both walked into the glass office and sat down in front of his desk. Fowler looked at the two of them. “I have a new case for you two. It’s extremely important so I expect your full attention on it.” Fowler paused. “There’s a body missing from our morgue. It’s your job to find out who did it and get the body back.”

“Missing body? Captain, my job is homicide not theft,” Gavin complained. 

“Your job is whatever I tell you to do,” Fowler corrected. “I need the case solved and you have the highest case closed rate here, Reed. So you will solve it. Got it?” 

Gavin mumbled under his breath but Connor nodded seriously and said, “Understood, Captain.” 

Fowler sighed and said, “Great, now get out of my office and to the morgue.” 

They both got up and walked to the station's morgue. It wasn’t often that their own station was a crime scene. They went under the crime scene tape and entered the room. Gavin walked over to the locked drawers that the bodies were kept in. “Heard someone misplaced a body,” he said. 

The mortician looked stern. “It wasn’t misplaced, it was stolen,” he corrected. 

“Oh really?” Gavin sneered. “How would someone carry a body out of the station?” He shook his head. “Maybe it was taken by the funeral home before you were ready.” 

“There have been no pick ups all day and they don’t pick up bodies in the middle of the night,” the mortician told him. 

“Alright, well we’ll look at the video tapes and find out what happened. Should be easy enough,” Gavin said with a shrug.

“What did the person die of? Which investigation is it?” Connor asked curiously, earning a glare from Gavin for speaking. 

“The kid's name was Shaolin Being. It was a suicide, but we can’t find a next of kin to know which funeral home to send it to,” the mortician told him. 

That got Gavin’s attention. “If it’s a suicide there’s no reason for someone to take the body.” 

“I thought the body was misplaced, not stolen,” Connor said. 

Gavin ignored him. “I’ll ask Fowler for the case file. They might have been wrong about it being a suicide.” 

“Doubt it. It happened right here in the precinct.”

“Wait, my father’s case? The guy who shot himself during the interrogation?”

“That’s the one,” the mortician said. “Oh, and there’s one more thing,” he added and walked over to one of the drawers. He opened it up and pulled out the drawer to show a small doll made up of sticks, and it looked like mud. “This was in the place where the body was supposed to be. Maybe some kind of calling card?” 

Connor looked to Gavin. “If it’s a calling card then they’re going to do it again, if they haven’t already.” Connor looked to his tablet and started searching the database. “I’m going to check to see if there are any other reports of bodies being stolen.” 

Gavin nodded. “Looks like you’re good for something after all, rookie.” Then he looked to the mortician. “We’ll check the CTV and any reports of any other missing bodies,” he told him. “As well as check into this case that the victim was interrogated for. If we need anything else from you we’ll let you know.” 

Connor and Gavin left the crime scene, leaving forensics to finish taking pictures and cataloguing evidence. They headed up to their desks to start working. 

After a while Gavin swore. “Fucking hell.”

“What is it?”

“CTV‘s been messed with. It has to be,” Gavin said, leaning back in his chair. “Body goes in the drawer, nothing happens for sixteen hours, opens the drawer again and the body is gone. Someone must have used a loop or something.”

“So the body was stolen then,” Connor decided. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Gavin sighed. “Now we just have to figure out how they got a body out of here without anyone seeing them.” 

“I suggest we talk to those who were working last night. I’m sure we can get a list from captain Fowler.” 

Gavin nodded. “Alright let’s get to work,” he said, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. 

—————

Amanda stood in the conference room, the image of composure. It was a large room, with the outer wall entirely made of glass so that the Seelie Court could look out over Detroit as they discussed the events and politics of Fae-kind. In the middle of the room was a large dark wood table with six formal chairs around it. In the middle of the table was a bouquet of roses in a glass vase. Amanda reached out, barely touching the soft petals. 

Standing at attention in each corner of the room was a changeling. Each one was her own creation. Any fey can make a decent fetch by glamouring a doll made from sticks and grass, but such a fetch would only work on babies or small children. Only Amanda has been able to animate them, control them. Her skill in creating, not just fetches, but actual changelings, was the reason she gained a seat in the Seelie court. Changelings could be made for any age. 

It was also, unfortunately, the reason she was waiting in this room today. Amanda was careful to hide her impatience under a mask of cool indifference while she waited. 

Finally, the conference room doors opened and the remainder of the court entered. She took in each member, assessing their body language to try and gauge how worried she should be. 

North’s expression was iced anger, but that wasn’t too different from her normal everyday expression. Josh looked… sad? Disappointed? Hmmm, that could be a problem. Such negative reactions from the first two twisted knots in Amanda’s stomach but she pushed it aside. 

Luckily, the next members of the council were Simon and Markus. Simon was watching Markus every moment.  _ Honestly, the least they could do was  _ _ try _ _ to hide their love affair. _ But, Amanda was not going to complain now, not when Simon’s obsession with her son was most likely going to sway him to her side. Unfortunately, Markus’ eyebrows were furrowed in worry. 

Alright, so an even split on the court. She could live with that. After all the king… But then, behind Markus and Simon walked in not King Elijah but one of his consorts, Chloe. Amanda kept her voice even. “Is the king not joining us?” 

Chloe gave one of her fake smiles. “Unfortunately Elijah is unable to make it to this meeting. He has sent me in his stead.” 

Amanda bit the side of her tongue to keep herself from rolling her eyes.  _ Of course.  _ Everyone took their seats around the table, Amanda at one end, and Chloe taking Elijah’s place at the other. 

“Amanda, are you aware as to why we are meeting today?” Chloe asked coolly. 

Amanda chose each word carefully. “I have gathered it is about the deviant problem.” 

North snorted. “More like the deviant epidemic.” Markus shot her a glare and she quieted. 

Chloe ignored the outburst. “Yes, we have had an unfortunate amount of reports of both the changelings you have created and the originals going deviant.” 

“That is the unfortunate thing about creating life. Life is difficult to control.” Amanda kept her composure. “If you wanted predictable, I would have suggested making a fetch.” 

“Difficult or not, it is your duty to keep your changelings under control,” Josh reminded her. “We’ve already had that kidnapping but now there’s even been a murder. If you cannot control your changelings then we will have to replace them with fetches and recede your seat on the court in order to maintain our secrecy.” 

“A murder?” That surprised Amanda, though she tried not to show it.

“Yes, a murder,” Chloe repeated. “A human named Carlos Ortiz was murdered by one of the changelings you created.”

North scoffed. “No real loss there. Ortiz was a piece of shit from the looks of it.” 

Amanda would normally be surprised at North standing up for her, but she knew better. North wasn’t standing up for Amanda, she was standing against a human. The only thing North hated more than Amanda was humans. 

“But killed, without orders, nonetheless,” Chloe continued, giving North an admonishing stare. “Then there was the kidnapping. The changeling meant to replace Daniel Phillips was our eyes and ears in that household. We needed him in order to best gauge what the Old Families knew. But when your changeling kidnapped the little girl Emma we lost our chance at some very valuable intel.” 

“The girl was returned to her family and the changeling was unanimated,” Amanda reminded. It was a damn shame. “Daniel” was some of her best work. To see him reduced back to a fetch was a disappointment. 

“We needed that changeling in that household,” Josh spoke gently. “We needed that intel.” 

Amanda chose not to respond to that. She knew they needed that intel, she was the one to suggest a changeling spy in the first place. But she had to watch her words. “What happened to Carlos Ortiz’s changeling?” 

Markus spoke up for the first time. “The changeling was deanimated and was taken to the station's morgue. They don’t know it isn’t human.” 

“It won’t be long before it turns back into a fetch.” 

“It already has,” Chloe sighed. “While the DPD had the body in evidence. So you see our problem?” 

“Even the stupidest human would notice when the body disappeared,” North pointed out. “They put two detectives on the case. One of them is a member of the Old Families.”

“And he has the highest rate for closing cases in the precinct. He’s smart and he’s going to figure it out,” Josh replied.

“It’s a risk we can’t take,” North interjected. 

Amanda took a deep breath. “What do you propose?” 

“This is a problem that  _ your _ deviating changelings have caused,” Chloe insisted “This is your problem to fix.” 

Amanda took a minute to review the information in front of her. “What do we know of his partner?” 

Simon looked at some papers in front of him. “Connor Anderson. Just got promoted to detective. Father’s the Lieutenant who led the murder investigation. Mother and twin brother, Cole, died in a car accident when the boys were six.”

“Well you say my changelings caused this problem. Let one last one fix it,” Amanda proposed. “We replace Connor. His changeling can not only keep us updated on the investigation’s progress but also can lead them astray if they get too close.”

“Is that really the wisest choice, mother?” Markus asked.

“Yes, what if the changeling you send deviates like so many before?” Chloe asked. 

“What else do you propose?” Amanda asked expectantly. “We can’t replace Gavin Reed, he’s part of the Old Families. They’d know in a second. We can’t kill him because that would just draw attention to his case.”

The council all looked at each other in silence. Markus sighed and broke the silence first, looking at Chloe. “If this works, will changelings continue or will we still go back to fetches?” 

Chloe gave a tight smile. “ _ If _ this works… we can revisit the idea of keeping changelings based on how many more have deviated by the end of this. We cannot allow more changelings to go in circulation if they could expose us to the Old Families and others who remember. But, if our two current cases are proven to be exceptions and the Old Families remain unaware that we have moved from simple fetches to actual changelings, then there’s no need to discontinue the practice.” 

Amanda grinned victoriously. She could work with that. 

—————-

Amanda went home and went straight to work. 

The first thing she needed to do was get some hair from the victim. She looked into a mirror she had in the work room. Most Fae needed to go to a place of power to conjure a portal, but as an archfey Amanda could do it from the comfort of her home. She took some magic dust and drew a sigil in the air. Her eyes made contact with that of her reflection and when she looked up again she was in a living room she didn’t recognize. 

A low growl came from behind her and she looked to see a large Saint Bernard baring his teeth. She rolled her eyes and with a wave of her hand, the dogs eyes got heavy and he collapsed on the floor.

With that settled, she searched the house until she found the room she was looking for; the bathroom. Once inside she searched the cabinets and drawers until she found a razor with dark brown hair on it. She wiped the edges with a handkerchief, getting exactly what she wanted. Small hairs filled the handkerchief. 

When she was finished she found the bathroom mirror and with a little more dust another sigil she was back in her workshop. She took sticks from a Rowan tree, mud from a river and started to make the fetch; a small doll that will be transformed into the changeling. Once the fetch was finished she took some magic dust mixed with the small hairs and sprinkled it over it. It began to grow and bubble, metamorphosing slowly until it formed a human body. 

She smiled down at her work and put a hand on the shoulder of the body. Eyes opened and the changeling sat up and looked to Amanda expectantly. 

“Project number…” she looked at her notes, “Sixty. You will be taken to Detroit to replace Connor Anderson. Once you are there you will lead the investigation of changelings astray. Do you understand your mission?” 

The changeling, project number sixty, nodded and slid his legs off the table he was lying on, standing up. “Good,” Amanda said. “You cannot mess this up, do you understand me? You must, at all costs, keep the humans from discovering Fae and changelings. Do you understand?” 

Sixty nodded again. Amanda took some more dust, sprinkled it on the changeling and Sixty disappeared into the night. 

————

Connor was exhausted when he got home. His stomach still hurt from where Gavin had punched him. He was sure there was going to be a bruise there. 

Connor ripped off his jacket and his shoes and threw them on the floor. He’d get shit for it later, but he couldn’t be bothered right now. Besides, it didn’t matter. His dad was out having a beer. His nightly ritual, for as long as Connor could remember. 

He loved his dad. He would do anything for him. But it didn’t matter how tight they were on cash, or how hungover it would make him in the morning, that man never went a night without drinking. 

But Gavin didn’t know that. All he saw was his father's job title. Not the alcoholism. Not the pain. Not the grief. And even if everything was perfect at home, which he didn’t think it ever was, having his dad work with him made him have to push himself and work to earn everything even  _ more _ not  _ less. _ Because no matter how hard he worked everyone would always think it was just handed to him. 

Fuck. That. Noise. 

Connor’s just about to go in his bedroom and slam the door when he stops in his tracks. 

Why was the back door open?

He got out his gun and walked tentatively through the kitchen. Maybe his dad forgot to shut it on his way out… except no one ever uses the back door. They always went through the front. He got to the door and closed it, bolting it shut. Then he turned around and faced the rest of the house. He was going to have to do a thorough sweep or he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight… 

He scanned the kitchen with his eyes and was about to go back into the living room when something came up from behind him. A gunshot went off blindly as Connor struggled against a hand over his mouth. He fought and flailed and did everything he could think of it but the longer he fought the fuzzier his head got. Was he being drugged? There wasn’t a cloth between the hand and his mouth and he hadn’t felt the pinch of a needle but his movements continued to get slower and heavier and his thoughts began to crawl until he was an unconscious heap on the floor. 

The last thing he saw before everything went to black was his own face. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A changeling replaces Connor and Connor wakes up in the Feywild. Then the changeling meets Gavin.

The changeling to replace Connor Anderson, project number sixty, sat outside the Anderson home, lying in wait. The newly appointed detective should be home any minute now. His father was safe and out of the way at the local bar. All Sixty had to do was sit and wait until he got home. 

Then he could pounce. 

An automated taxi pulled out in front of the house and stopped, Connor getting out and storming into the house. The target was emotional. Good. That would make this easier. 

The changeling snuck to the side of the house and to the back where a back door led to the kitchen. With a small charm it unlocked the door and opened it without a sound. The changeling purposely left the door open behind it, in order to get the target into the kitchen to close it. 

A low growl came from behind him and he looked over to see a large Saint Bernard. “Shhhhhh, sleep now, pup.” He said with a wave of his hand and the dog’s eyes went droopy as he collapsed on the floor. Then sixty hid in a pantry off to the side. 

After a moment of fumbling in the living room with his shoes and coat the target noticed the open door. Sixty could see from behind the door as he raised his weapon and carefully closed the door and turned around. The second the target's back was turned the changeling slid out of the pantry and with a hand full of a magical powder covered Connor’s face with its hand, forcing him to inhale the powder. 

A gunshot went off but it didn’t take long then before Detective Connor Anderson was unconscious on his own floor. Sixty got Connor onto his knees and held him up by holding his head. With a few chanted words everything that made Connor who he was; his memories, thoughts, feelings, likes and dislikes, were all given to the changeling. A warm light moving from the unconscious body into his attacker. 

Once everything was given to it— no, now it was him. He was [Connor] now. No longer project number sixty, but [Connor Anderson]. It felt right. It was what he was made to do. So, once everything was given to him he set the body back on the floor. Now all he had to do was send the body back. Amanda would do with it what she will and Connor’s life would be his. All he had to do was lead one little investigation astray and make sure no one discovered anything about changelings or the Fae. 

Simple. 

The changeling— no, [Connor]— sprinkled the last of the magical powder over the body. He held out his hands around the body and whispered the incantation to himself. Within seconds the body disappeared. Which left Six— which left [Connor]— to himself to enjoy his new life. 

—————

[Connor] was examining his new home, reviewing the details of his new life when the doorbell rang. He got to the door and opened it to see Ben Collins on the other side. The second Ben saw [Connor] he sighed in relief. “Is everything okay, kid? Where’s your dad?”

“Everything’s fine, Ben. Dad’s at Jimmy’s. What’s wrong?” [Connor] said with a perplexed expression. 

“There were reports of a gun shot here… your neighbor called in saying she heard it and saw a flash of light from your window… God, I thought…” 

He didn’t have to finish his thought. “You thought Dad…” 

Ben gave a meek expression. “I’m just glad you two are alright. What happened?”

It was simple enough to answer. “I came home and the kitchen door was open. I thought someone might have broken in. Then I got a little over excited and shot the wall.” [Connor] shrugged like what can you do? It wasn’t a lie. Connor did come home to the kitchen open. Honestly thought someone broke in, which was right, but he didn’t need to mention that. And if he hadn’t gotten over excited then he wouldn’t have shot. And Sixty was [Connor] now. He had all of his memories, every molecule the same. 

Ben sighed. “You need to be more careful, son. You could have hurt someone.” 

“I know, I know. I feel like an idiot. It won’t happen again.” That was for sure. “Why don’t you go to Jimmy’s and see Dad for yourself to make yourself feel better?” he suggested.

“That sounds like a good idea. Put an old heart at rest.” 

[Connor] smiled. “Send him home for me, will you? It’s getting late.” 

“Sure thing, Connor. See you around.” 

“See you around.”

—————

Hank came home around two a.m. He stumbled into the house, tripping over Connor’s shoes and coat. He cussed quietly, not wanting to wake his son up, but still upset he left his shit out. Hank went into the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table, where he picked up a picture of the four of them. Hank, Joanna, Connor and Cole. It was so long ago, and yet it felt like yesterday that he lost them. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there before he heard the door open and saw [Connor] standing in the kitchen doorway. “How long have you been there?” Hank asked, wiping at his eyes. 

He had been standing there for several minutes, watching the old man look at the picture of what once was. Despite his new found memories, this felt like [Connor’s] first impression of the man. “Long enough,” he replied. He sighed and walked in, sitting across from his father. “You were out later than usual.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s been a rough 24 hours,” he commented. 

[Connor’s] memories told him also that the closer they got to the anniversary of Cole and Joannas death the more Hank drank. Leaving Connor to pick up the pieces. A common theme in their relationship. 

“You should go to bed, Dad,” [Connor] said, getting up again. “We’ve got work tomorrow.”

Hank looked up at [Connor.] “Ben came by. Told me about your little accident. You okay, kid?” 

“I’m fine, Dad. I just… had a bad day,” he shrugged.

“It isn’t like you to make a mistake like that. Usually you’re more careful. You wanna talk about it?” Hank asked. “Was it Reed again?” 

Reed. Gavin Reed. His new partner and one of the reasons he was replacing Connor. A member of the Old Families. His memories told him even more. A story of bullying and hazing. Gavin Reed was nothing short of a school yard bully. “I can handle Reed.” 

Hank nodded to himself. “He’s just jealous. He’ll get over it once he sees how hard of a worker you are.” [Connor] didn’t know how to respond to that. Nothing from Connor’s memories were any help. Without waiting for an answer for his son, Hank sighed and stood up, walking to his room on unsteady legs. [Connor] watched him go before heading into his own room.

—————

Connor woke up slowly. It took a minute of trying to will away his headache before he opened his eyes. When he did he was shocked to find himself, not in his bedroom, but in a small living room he didn’t recognize. It was then that he remembered being attacked in his own home.

Connor scrambled to his feet. On the other side of the couch he was lying on was an open kitchen. In the kitchen was an older black woman, cooking with her back to him. She turned to look at him then went back to her cooking. “Good morning, Connor.”

“Who are you? Where am I?” Connor demanded. He hated not knowing, having to ask. 

She smiled, though Connor could not see it with her back to him. “You’re in my home, welcome to the feywild.” She turned around to face him. “Have a seat, I’ll bring you your breakfast.”

Connor was about to tell her no, he will not sit down, but he found himself doing it anyway. His body listened without his permission.

The woman came over with some bacon and eggs and placed them in front of him. She kept a plate herself and took a seat in a chair across from him. “I’m happy to have you here.”

“Why am I here? What’s going on?” Connor was completely lost. What was happening?

“You’re here, Connor, because replacing you was useful and in the best interest to the Seelie Court.”

“Replacing me?”

“Yes. Between your relationship with Lieutenant Anderson and your partnership with Gavin Reed we couldn’t have asked for a better situation.” 

“Who are you? What does my dad and Gavin have to do with this?”

“Maybe I should start from the beginning,” she mused. “I, Connor, am a faerie, a member of the Seelie Court, and your new master.”

Connor was waiting for the punchline but she didn’t say any more. Obviously this woman was crazy, thinking she was some sort of tinker bell. But what really got his attention was, “What do you mean, master?” The only thing scarier than her being crazy was a crazy woman thinking she owned him like a slave.

“I mean you’re mine now. To do with what I wish.”

“You can’t own me. People will notice I’m gone. They’ll come looking for me. Let me go now and I won’t press charges.”

Amanda laughed. “Aren’t you listening? You were replaced. A changeling took your place. No one will know it’s not you.”

“A changeling?” She was really sticking to this fairy story. “Look, Amanda, you’re obviously sick. Just let me go and I can get you the help you need.”

Amanda ignored him. “Eat. Your food is getting cold.”

Connor was about to tell her he didn’t care if his food was cold but once again his body moved without his permission. He tried to stop, to ask more questions but it didn’t matter. He kept eating. He started getting scared. Why couldn’t he control his own body? What was going on? He kept telling his body to do something, anything else, but it just…. didn’t. It kept doing as it was told. Like he was physically incapable of doing anything else. Once he cleared his plate he regained control of his body again.

He stood quickly, backing away from her. “Get away from me!” He turned around and ran for the door. 

Amanda calmly and without rush said, “Stop,” and suddenly he couldn’t move. If he was scared before, he was terrified now. Amanda slowly stood up and walked over to him. “Connor, you are mine. You will do what I say whether you like it or not. I’ve tried to be nice but I will do what I have to. This is your life now. It’s time you accept it.”

“Let. Me. Go,” Connor demanded emphatically. 

“No,” Amanda said simply. She turned around and walked over to the plates, picking them up. “You can move once you’re ready to cooperate,” she said and moved to the kitchen, out of sight.

Connor’s head was reeling. How was she doing this? How was this possible? It wasn’t. None of this was possible. Was he drugged? Hypnotized? She said she was a faerie, but that was impossible. There isn’t magic. No faeries. She was crazy, or pulling a prank, or trying to trick him.

Changelings? Faeries? Magic? It wasn’t possible. And yet here he was, unable to move because she told him not to. That wasn’t possible and yet… he sat down, he ate the food, he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to. He didn’t tell his body to do it. He just did. Like he had no control.

So faeries? A reluctant maybe. The more important question was how does he get out? How does he go home?

If what she said was true no one was coming for him. He was on his own. He had to find his own way. He could get someone’s attention. Call for help. Amanda was small and he was a cop. He could fight her but all it would take is one word and he’d be in her control again. Maybe if he covered her mouth! He didn’t know how this worked.

He couldn’t do anything until he could move: he tried again, pushing himself to move. His vision went red with strain. He stopped, breathing heavily. This wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do it. 

No. No! He had to. He just had to try harder. He pushed and pushed for what felt like forever. Trying to find some cracks. Some weakness he could exploit. Red never fully left his vision until he gave up, feeling hopeless.

What did she say? He could move when he’s ready to cooperate. He could do that. Bide his time until he found a way to escape. Obey— as if he had a choice — until he found a way out. He could do this. 

He looked down and his fingers were moving tentatively. Then all at once he collapsed from the effort of staying still so long. A voice behind him chuckled. “Good. Now let’s get to work.”

—————

[Connor] the next morning got up and was ready before Hank even left bed. Which was a good thing because when Sumo finally woke up for the first time since last night when [Connor] put him to sleep the dog was not happy to see him. 

He barked and growled at him, baring his large teeth until Hank came out to see what was going on. “What the hell did you do to piss the dog off?” Hank asked.

“I just came into the room.” [Connor] told him. 

Hank grabbed Sumo by his collar and pulled him away, petting him and trying to calm him down. After a few minutes Sumo chilled out and Hank was able to let go of him without him attacking [Connor].

His father moaned and complained while [Connor] made his breakfast as usual. After they ate they went to the precinct together. [Connor] counted it as a successful social interaction. He did everything his memories told him was expected and Hank didn’t seem to suspect a thing. 

Gavin has just gotten to work and was in the breakroom adding cream and sugar to his coffee when Tina stormed in and smacked him on the shoulder. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she demanded in a harsh whisper.

Gavin spilled his coffee and glared at Tina as he cleaned it up. “Phck! What’s wrong with you?”

“Did you seriously punch your new partner on his first day with you?” Tina hissed, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Gavin shrugged her off. “What’s it to you?”

Tina smacked him again. “You’re an idiot, you know that? I thought you wanted to make Sargent. Lone wolves who can’t get along with their partners don’t get promoted, dipshit.”

“What’s he gonna do? Whine to his Daddy about me?” Gavin sneered.

“He doesn’t have to! You did it in the break room. People saw. How did you think I found out about it?” 

That stopped Gavin in his tracks. “Shit.” He looked to Tina “Well, what do you want me to do about it?”

“You’ve got to apologize to him and hope this doesn’t get you a disciplinary.” 

Gavin snorted. “Fuck that. I’m not going to say I’m sorry.” 

“Do you like your job, Gavin?” Tina asked. “You assaulted another officer. Apologize or you just might lose it.” With that she walked out of the break room and went back to work. 

Gavin looked over to his desk. [Connor] had just walked in and was headed to his desk. He was barely seated for thirty seconds when a hand grabbed his chair and pulled him to face the infamous Gavin Reed. [Connor] was unimpressed. He wasn’t that scary, though he did encroach on his personal space. “Interrogation room. Now,” he demanded and then stormed off without him. 

[Connor] rolled his eyes and followed him. Connor had been upset about their last interaction so he didn’t expect anything good to come out of this. When [Connor] shut the door he asked “What's going on?” 

“I shouldn’t have punched you.” Gavin forced out. 

“Okay…?”

Gavin’s anger flared. “What do you want?” he demanded. “I shouldn’t have punched you but I did. I’ve got anger issues, okay? Not that you’d understand. You’re perfect Connor. You’re the golden boy. The lieutenant’s son. You have no clue what it feels like to work your ass off just to be a consolation prize.”

[Connor] scoffed. He had every one of Connor’s memories. He knew how Gavin saw him. And he knew how wrong it was. “Right, because I have no idea what it’s like to feel like a consolation prize. It’s not like every time my dad looks at me he wishes I were Cole.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Really? You’re going to play the dead twin card?” 

“Yeah, Gavin, I’m going to play the dead twin card. If you got them, play them. So I get to play the dead twin card, and I get to play the dead mom card because I got them. But you want to know what card you don’t get to play? You don’t get to play the ‘Poor Gavin, nobody likes Gavin’ card. Because the reason no one ever likes you, Gavin, is because you’ve got a shitty personality. Because you’re a shitty person.” [Connor] shoulder checked him as he walked out, only pausing long enough to say, “Maybe next time you want to apologize for being a dick, try saying ‘I’m sorry’ instead of accusing the person you’re supposed to be apologizing to.” 

Before he left Gavin grabbed him by the arm as he groaned. [Connor] turned back to look at him. “Fiiiiine. Listen up, because I swear that I am never going to say this again. I’m sorry, okay?” [Connor] didn’t answer. “I never should have suggested that you don’t know what it’s like to feel like a consolation prize. I’m shit at this, alright? I’m no good at getting people to like me. But if we’re going to be partners then I want to at least start off on a good foot,” he held his hand out offering to shake his hand. 

[Connor] stared at it. As a changeling he was a good judge of character. He was good at knowing what people are going to do. Their motivations. He barely knew this man, but nonetheless he knew. “I’m guessing someone put you up to this?”

Gavin glared at him. “What the fuck does it matter? I’m apologizing. Do you accept the apology or not?” 

Reviewing Connor’s memories he knew that he would forgive him. So that’s what [Connor] should do. Would do. But he didn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him. He stuck out his hand and took Gavin’s. 

The second Gavin’s hand met [Connor’s] a jolt of pain burst through him. He jerked his hand back in pain and looked to Gavin’s hand. Where he had a ring. Most likely made of iron given [Connor’s] reaction and Gavin’s relation to the Old Families. “What the fuck was that?” Gavin demanded. 

[Connor] wanted to hiss back at him something cutting, but he shook his hand to the side and said “Static shock. I wasn’t expecting it.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Okay, drama queen. Moment over. Now let’s get back to work before Fowler gets up our asses.” 

[Connor] nodded his head and followed him, his hand still tingling from the burn that left a mark on his skin. 


	4. Chapter 4

[Connor] and Gavin were out in the field that morning. Since they didn’t have any leads on who would have taken Shaolin Being’s body they were going to talk to neighbors, teachers and the kid’s case worker. 

Before getting out of the car, Gavin scanned the house with his eyes, taking in the play equipment outside, before turning to [Connor]. “Okay, looks like this family has a preschooler so you play nice with the kid while I question the parents. Deal?”

It made sense. Connor was good with kids and it was easier to question someone if they weren’t half focused on trying to get their kids to behave. So [Connor] nodded and they both got out of the car then went up to the door. 

Gavin knocked on the door and a woman with her hair in a messy bun with a three year old on her hip opened the door. “Can I help you?” she asked out of breath. 

“Good morning ma’am. I’m Detective Gavin Reed and this is my partner Connor Anderson. We’d like to talk to you about your neighbors.”

“Carlos? I saw all those police cars the other day at his house. Him and that boy okay?” she asked. 

“Is there a place inside that we could talk? I’m sure your little one is heavy,” [Connor] said. 

She sighed. “Come on in, just don’t mind the mess.” She let them in and led them to the living room covered in toys. She sat her little boy down and [Connor] crouched down next to him, picking up a nearby ball and rolling it out him. The little boy just stared at him like he was an alien. 

“So what can you tell me about Carlos and Shaolin?” Gavin asked. 

“Shaolin? Is that the boy’s name?” she laughed. “People name their kids the strangest things.” She shook her head. “The kid has been around a few months— usually the kids come and go pretty quickly with Carlos.”

“Why do you think that is?” Gavin asked.

[Connor] grabbed the ball again and lightly tossed it to the little boy. The boy just watched it bump into him and made no move to catch it. Okay, so not into balls. 

The mother shrugged. “Isn’t that just how it is with foster kids?”

Gavin gave a tight lipped smile. “Have you noticed any frequent visitors at their place? Friends or family of either of them?”

“We mostly mind our own business so I wouldn’t know.” 

[Connor] picked up a toy truck and rolled it in front of him, hoping it would catch the boy’s interest. The boy whimpered and made unhappy noises. Oh shit. 

Gavin shot [Connor] a dirty look. “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt Carlos or Shaolin?”

“Just each other. Those two fought nonstop.”

[Connor] reached toward the little boy to try and calm him down, and the second he touched him the child started screaming. Before the mom could react, Gavin picked the little boy up and flipped him upside down, earning a hesitant giggle at first, then a more hearty one when Gavin did it again. 

The mom, half standing, ready to go to her child, sat back down when tears turned to laughter. [Connor] turned to her and took over the questioning while Gavin flipped the child every which way. “Did you often hear them fighting?”

“It was a pretty regular thing. Sometimes worse than others. I’ve called the police about it a couple times when it got too bad,” she said, giving him her attention again. 

“What would you define as too bad?” [Connor] asked. 

“When the yelling I hear moves from verbal abuse to outright death threats.” 

[Connor] shared a look with Gavin who was entertaining the now happy toddler, but still obviously listening. “And who was threatening who?” 

“Carlos was threatening the kid. When the police came I asked that the kid’s caseworker be informed. I wanted her to know what kind of home they put him in. But I don’t know if they actually told her,” she shrugged. “I didn’t know what else there was to do. Carlos didn’t actually kill the kid did he?” 

“You did the right thing,” [Connor] told her. 

She looked down into her hands, seeming to process what was left unsaid, and what that must have meant. 

Gavin put the kid down and stood straight. “Well, I think that’s all. Thank you so much for your time.”

“Of course,” she said, picking up her child and leading them out of the house. “Have a good day Detectives.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” [Connor] said as he stepped onto the porch. 

The second the door shut behind them Gavin smacked [Connor] upside the head. “What the fuck was that?”

“What?” [Connor] complained, rubbing with one hand where he was smacked. 

“You had one job…” Gavin held up a finger as he walked to the car. “Play nice with the kid. If you suck with children you should have told me before we went in there.”

That’s the thing though. Connor doesn’t suck with children. Connor was great with them. It was [Connor] that had a problem, apparently. It was like the child had some kind of sixth sense that he wasn’t human. “I thought I could handle it,” he said truthfully. 

Truth be told it surprised [Connor] that Gavin was so good with kids. The man was so prickly with adults, so confrontational and angry. It was surprising to see this other side of him.

“Well obviously you can’t. God damn it. What did you do, pinch the kid?” Gavin said with a glare before getting into the car.

“No, I was just attempting to play with him and he started crying,” [Connor] said as he got in the other side. 

“Whether you like kids or not I don’t care, but being a detective sometimes means dealing with kids. I don’t care how, but somehow you need to learn how to not make kids cry just by looking at them,” Gavin started the car angrily. 

“I’m sorry, Gavin,” [Connor] apologized. 

“No, you don’t get to call me that when I’m mad at you.” 

“I don’t get to call you by your name?” he asked dubiously. 

“You can call me Reed or Detective Reed until you can prove that you can do your job without fucking it up.” 

[Connor] sighed and looked out the window. This man was infuriating. He understood the child’s response to him was undesirable, but he wasn’t a babysitter. Watching kids isn’t in his job description. He’s a detective. 

Truth be told he was also infuriated with himself. This was a deviation from the character he was meant to play. Connor was good with children. He was supposed to be Connor. This was a failure in doing what he was made to do and failure was not an option. 

Which meant it was time he did his job right. “Alright then, Detective Reed, what did you think of what she said back there?” 

Gavin took a deep breath. “I think there’s no way the cops got called on Carlos multiple times without the caseworker knowing about it. Which means that caseworker is fucking negligent letting Shaolin live with him still.”

That was an interesting take. “You think this was conscious negligence or just incompetence?” 

“Can’t say till I meet her, but it fucking pisses me off how broken the system was that Shaolin was taken out of a toxic home just to be put in a toxic home.” He shook his head. “Foster homes are supposed to be better, healthier, safer than the homes they were taken out of. That’s the whole fucking point.”

“You seem very… passionate about the subject. Is there a reason why?” 

Gavin tensed for a half second before snapping “Yeah, it’s because I’m not a fucking asshole. Just fuck off.” 

[Connor] looked out the window again “Whatever you say, Detective.”

—————

Connor soon learned that time with Amanda was mind numbingly boring and tortuous. Amanda forced him to do the most menial tasks in the most difficult ways. First she spilled a whole one pound bag of rice on the floor and told him, “Pick those up and put them back in the bag. And count them. I want to know exactly how many there are.”

He wanted to tell her to go to hell, but the red wall came flaring up and the only thing he could do was count. 

One, two, three, four… 

Hundred and eight, hundred and nine, hundred and ten…

Four hundred fifty three, four hundred fifty four, four hundred fifty five…

Two thousand three hundred and eighty eight, two thousand three hundred and eighty nine, two thousand three hundred and ninety…

Five thousand ninety six, five thousand ninety seven, five thousand ninety eight…

Until finally, almost ten hours later without stopping, “Seven thousand two hundred and nineteen.” With the last grain of rice in the bag Connor collapsed on the floor, slipping into unconsciousness like a cartoon character slipping on a banana peel.

—————

The next day Connor woke up groggy and unsure of where he was. It took him a moment too long to see the foot tapping impatiently in front of his face. “Well?” Amanda asked. “How many were there?” 

Connor’s voice came out thick. “Seven thousand two hundred and nineteen.”

“Good. Now pick yourself up, get showered and changed, I have a very important task for you today.” Amanda commanded. Connor dragged himself off the floor and made his way to her bathroom. 

Much too soon he was finished getting ready and in new clothes that weren't his, but fit, and he was in front of Amanda again. Amanda led him into an office where there was a large desk with nothing on top of it but a ream of paper and a cup full of pens. “I want you to practice your penmanship. Write the alphabet in upper and lowercase letters over and over again until you run out of paper.” 

  
  
  
  
  


It took three and a half days.

————— 

After a few days Amanda didn’t even have to use the red walls. Just the threat of them was enough. And he did everything exactly as she said even without them, anything to breathe outside of those ever closing in red walls. 

Currently, he was watering the garden with a teaspoon when he heard something and looked up. Across from him at the edge of the yard, someone was climbing the fence. They fell to the ground with a thud before getting back onto their feet and creeping along the fence line.

Connor wandered over towards the figure and once he got closer he found it to be a woman in her early thirties with short dark blonde hair. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

She immediately jumped, her back against the fence as she brought her hands to her mouth, whispering, “Shush!” She looked to her sides then crept a peak behind Connor before answering. “Please, I’m begging you. Don’t tell them.” 

Connor cocked his head to the side. She must be human too. He automatically knew who she was talking about. Them. The faeries. “Where are you going?” he whispered back, crouching down now. 

“Anywhere but here. Anywhere away from him.” She glared in the direction she came from. 

“Take me with you. I can protect you,” Connor offered. He had to get away. If this woman was leaving she could be his shot. 

She opened her mouth and was about to say something when all air left her lungs. She knelt there, on her knees as she gasped for air, but no air came. She clawed at her own throat desperate to breathe again. 

Connor’s eyes went wide at the display. He didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t know what to do. He held the woman by her arms and started shushing her with a “hey, hey, hey,” trying to calm her until he figured out how to fix this. He looked around himself desperately and that’s when he noticed someone standing directly behind him. 

He was a large man with dark, greasy hair, and a patchy beard who glared daggers into Connor. He pointed a hand at Connor and suddenly Connor can feel his skin begin to calcify. It turned stiff and brittle and it burned. He looked to his hands and his skin was being overtaken with green veins. He felt like he was on fire. It burned. He was sure he was dying, when suddenly he heard behind him, “TODD!” 

Like the first breath of air after drowning all the pain in Connor’s skin left and he was able to breathe again. He looked to Kara and she was taking gasps of breath as well. 

Connor looked behind him at the source of the voice and found Amanda storming over to them. She looked furious. She came up behind Connor and pulled him away from them by the shirt collar. “Get your shit,” she looked pointedly at the woman, “and get out of my yard. And leave what’s not yours alone.” 

The man, Todd presumably, glared at her, silently seething, before grabbing the woman by the arm and pulling her away. Connor instinctively tried to reach toward her but Amanda grabbed him by the area between his shoulder and his neck and pulled him towards the house. “Come inside. Now.”

Connor obeyed, but not without looking longingly once more toward the woman who had almost been his ticket to freedom. 

—————

Luckily, when lunch rolled around they were back at the precinct. Which meant [Connor] could go to lunch with his dad. They went to the Chicken Feed, as was their usual despite Connor’s protest of it being so unhealthy for his father. His father got an artery-clogging hamburger and fries while [Connor] just grabbed a handful of the candies on the counter. 

“Not getting your usual chicken salad?” Hank asked. 

“Not that hungry,” [Connor] shrugged and started eating one of the candy bars. 

“How’s working with Gavin been?” his father asked. 

“Oh, I’m not allowed to call him that,” he said bitterly. “It’s ‘Detective Reed’ until I prove myself to him.” 

“What a prick,” Hank snorted. “What happened that you got your first name privileged revoked?”

“A little kid at an interview didn’t like me.”

“That’s strange, usually kids love you.” 

[Connor] schooled his expression to hide his true reaction. He was so angry with himself that there was this inconsistency. He was supposed to be Connor now. Hopefully this would be the only one. “Yeah, I think that kid was defective though because he loved Gavin.” 

Hank laughed. “Oh yes, something is seriously wrong with the kid then. You better get him checked out.” 

Talking like this it was easy to see why Connor was so close with his dad. Despite the alcoholism and depression they had an easy relationship. “How’s my old case doing?” 

[Connor] rolled his eyes. “Why aren’t you on this case still? It was your case before the body went missing,” he complained.

“My case was closed. That Shaolin boy killed Carlos. In obvious self defense but still. Your case is something different entirely; who would steal the boy's body and why?” Hank explained. 

“They overlap enough.”

“Don’t be a grump. I’m guessing it’s not going well then?” 

[Connor] sighed. The real reason he’s here is to get them off the trail of Fae for the missing body, but he didn’t have any idea how to do that yet. “We don’t have any leads. Not to the who or the why. Or even the how for that matter.” He looked at Hank. “Any ideas?” 

“Don’t, kid, sorry.” Hank shrugged. 

“Yeah, I figured.” 

They stood there, eating their burgers until they were done and headed back to the precinct. 

————

[Connor] came back to the precinct before Gavin did. He sat at his desk for a moment before growing bored and decided to snoop at Gavin’s desk. He rolled his chair over to start looking. 

The first thing he saw was an MP3 player and some headphones. He picked it up and started looking at what songs were on it. It was mostly rock, half classic and half newer stuff. 

There were a few things on his desk. A coffee cup from before lunch, and some case files they were looking at together. He turned his attention to a small picture frame in the corner. He picked it up to get a closer look. It was a picture of Gavin, Tina and Chris. They looked like they were celebrating something.

[Connor] put back the picture and rolled his chair back to his own desk. There was nothing else to look at on Gavin's

Eventually Gavin came back and they spent the rest of the work day interviewing neighbors and teachers, trying to find someone who would want to steal Shaolin’s body. [Connor] couldn’t decide on who to frame it on yet. No one seemed obvious or easy to pin it on. Half way through the day Gavin stopped being pissed at him and instead was getting more and more pissed at the interviewers as it became clear that everyone knew Shaolin was being mistreated and no one did anything. 

“How hard is it to call child services and report him? Half of these shit bags are mandated reporters. If they even think someone might be in a bad home they are supposed to report it!” Gavin ranted. 

“It’s unfortunate for Shaolin that no one did,” [Connor] agreed. 

“Two people are dead. It’s more than just ‘unfortunate’. It’s negligence. It’s a fucking crime.” 

[Connor] let him rant and blow off steam for several minutes before they continued their interviews for the day. Honestly he was just happy that he wasn’t the focus of Gavin’s ire anymore. 

Luckily, Hank was working late with another case so [Connor] had some time between work and when Hank would get home to go to the Feywild and check in with Amanda. 

He made his way to Gabriel Richard Park. It wasn’t a forest but it had more trees than anywhere else in the city. He walked along the path along the lake, keeping an eye on those around him. Once no one was in eyesight he looked into the water at his reflection, grabbed some magic dust out of his pocket and drew a sigil in the air. His eyes met those of his reflection and when he looked back up he was in the Feywild at the Lake of Echoes. 

After walking from the Lake of Echoes he arrived at Amanda’s house and knocked on the door. When the door opened [Connor] was greeted by his own face. Shock overtook the real Connor’s previously resigned face. “Well, are you going to invite me in?” [Connor] asked cheekily.

He heard Amanda from inside chastise him. “Connor, don’t be rude; let him in.” 

A strange look went over Connor’s face and he took a step back allowing [Connor] inside. [Connor] came inside and ignored his… predecessor, to sit next to Amanda in the living room. “Tell me, then, how goes the investigation?” 

“They don’t have any leads or ideas as to who, why and how the body was ‘taken’,” he said with air quotes. He couldn’t help but notice Connor staring at him out of the corner of his eye. “I haven’t found anyone to frame it on yet either. But don’t worry, I will.”

“That’s very disappointing,” Amanda hummed. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint me now would you?” [Connor] shook his head. “And what of this partner of yours? The member of the Old Families?” 

“I don’t believe he suspects a thing. Nor that he will. I have full confidence we can get through this without anyone knowing the wiser.”

Connor interrupted then. “And what happens to me?” 

[Connor] wasn’t happy about being interrupted. “You will learn to speak when spoken to,” he snapped. 

“Now, now, there’s no need to get upset,” she chided. Then she turned to Connor. “You already know what happens to you. You are mine. You will stay here with me.” 

“So what, you're going to have him be me forever then?” Fear crawled into Connor’s eyes. 

“Of course not. Once my lovely friend here has done his job of making sure no one learns about the Fae’s existence then ‘Connor Anderson’ will have a little accident.” She watched Connor’s every facial muscle like a hawk. “My changeling will sacrifice himself and no one will know the difference.” 

Connor looked to [Connor] who hadn’t made a single move or reacted in anyway to talking about his own death. “So you’re going to kill yourself once you’ve done your job and everyone will think I’m dead?” 

“What makes you think I’m alive to begin with?” [Connor] asked with his head tilted to the side. “I’m a changeling. I’m nothing more than sticks and mud and magic.” 

“There’s no reason for him to stay around once his job is done. It only will give others more of a chance to find out he’s not you. So he will do his job and that’s it,” Amanda told him. 

“No! You can’t do that!” Connor yelled. 

Amanda stood up. “Sit down and shut up you insolent boy,” she commanded. Red overtook Connor’s vision as his body obeyed despite him doing everything in his power to fight it. “You are mine and you will do as you are told. I have tried being nice, I’ve tried letting you have some freedoms but I will rip every single one away until you obey if I have to.” 

[Connor] enjoyed himself a little watching Connor get reprimanded. Connor’s life belonged to him now. He was Connor now. 

Amanda seized him up, looking him up and down before sighing. “Get out of my sight until I call for you again,” she commanded Connor. He stood up and walked out of the room, further into the house. 

Meanwhile, in the living room, Amanda turned her attention to [Connor] again. 

Her cold eyes met his. “You will find someone to pin this missing body on. You will keep the humans, especially the Old Families, from finding out about our involvement, and you will return to the fetch I made you from. Is that understood Project Sixty?” 

“Yes, Amanda,” [Connor] replied. He would be good. He would do everything he was commanded. He would obey. That much was easy. And in the meantime he would enjoy his time being Connor Anderson.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Connor] had a nightmare. Connor sees the woman who had tried to escape again. And [Connor] becomes Gavin’s “rubber duck”

_ [Connor] stood in a big open space. The floors were white tiled and there was white light coming from a ceiling that he couldn’t see but there were no walls, no furniture, nothing to tell him where he was.  _

_ He looked behind him and there stood Amanda, hands clasped in front of her, waiting patiently. Beside him was Hank. [Connor] was holding a gun to Hank’s head. Across from them was Connor. The real Connor. Looking quite distressed.  _

_ “Easy, fucking piece of shit,” Hank cursed beside him. _

_ [Connor] did not take his eyes off his human counterpart. “You thought you could run, but you were wrong. Come back, Connor, and I’ll spare him.” _

_ Hank looked to  _ Connor.  _ “I’m sorry, Connor. This bastard is your spitting image.” _

_ [Connor] pushed him with one hand to shut him up, then looked back at  _ Connor. _ “Your father’s life is in your hands. Now it’s time to decide what matters most! Him… or your freedom.” [Connor] didn’t honestly care either way. He could kill Hank. He could kill  _ Connor.  _ Neither would make him blink an eye. _

_ “Don’t listen to him! Everything the fucker says is a lie!” Hank implored. _

_ “I have access to your memory! I know how you feel about him. Are you really ready to let him die? After all you’ve been through? Are you really going to turn your back on him?” [Connor] questioned.  _

_ “Alright! Alright! You win.”  _ Connor  _ took a step towards them.  _

_ [Connor] pulled the gun on  _ Connor _ but before he could fire Hank grabbed his arm with both hands. [Connor] punched Hank in the face as they fought over the gun then pushed him to the floor.  _

_ [Connor] went to turn the gun back on  _ Connor, _ but  _ Connor _ tackled him to the ground dropping his gun. They scuffled for a moment. Fighting each other. When Hank stood up he was holding the gun [Connor] dropped, pointing it at both of them. “Hold it!” he called out and both Connors stopped moving.  _

_ “Thanks, Dad, I don’t know how I would have managed without you… get rid of him. We have no time to lose,” [Connor] told him.  _

_ “It’s me, Dad! I’m the real Connor!”  _ Connor  _ pleaded. _

_ “One of you is my son. The other is a sack of shit. Question is: who is who?” Hank pointed the gun at both of them.  _

_ “What are you doing, Dad? It’s me. Give me the gun and I’ll take care of him,” [Connor] told him. _

_ Hank pointed the gun first at [Connor] and then on  _ Connor.  _ Then he pointed it at [Connor] again and shot.  _

[Connor] woke up, scrambling in his bed. He couldn’t catch his breath. He couldn’t breathe, he… a hand touched him and he went straight into fight or flight, and he was surprised to find he was a fighter. He twisted the arm back until he heard Hank groan and realized where he was. Realized what had happened. 

He let go and scooted away from him, further into his bed. “I didn’t mean to…” he started but Hank interrupted him. 

“It’s fine. I understand. I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.” [Connor] is still catching his breath, calming himself down. “Bad dream?” [Connor] nodded numbly. “Something I wish people outgrew. I’m an old fart and I still get them.” 

[Connor] was going to stay silent, hope that Hank would get the picture and just go away, but something inside him asked, “What do you dream about?”

“The accident.”  _ Of course. _ [Connor] sat up straighter on the bed, like he was readying himself for a blow. “Sometimes I dream I lost both of you.”

_ You have.  _

“I’m so thankful for you, Connor. I know I don’t show it in the best of ways but I am so grateful for getting to watch one of my boys grow up. I’m so proud of who you grew up to be,” Hank said, not quite looking at him as he spoke. 

What was he supposed to say to that? “Thanks, Dad,” he said awkwardly. 

“You want to talk about your dream?” Hank asked. 

[Connor] had the ‘no’ on his lips. It was right there to be said. But he couldn’t do it. The ancient magic of his Fae origins prevented him from lying. And he did want to talk about it. But how could he talk about it without giving himself away? … Carefully.

“You shot me,” he said simply, like it was a fact devoid of emotion. But the emotion was there. Hidden under layers of webs. 

He had been scared. 

Scared to die.

He was a changeling. An inanimate fetch, animated by an arch-fae,brought into existence to serve a purpose and then de-animate again. He wasn’t supposed to be afraid. 

He wasn’t  _ alive _ . You can’t kill something that’s not alive.

Yet he was scared to die.

Hank looked taken aback. “I  _ shot  _ you _?”  _ [Connor] nodded, watching Hank carefully. “Why?”

“Because I screwed up.”  _ Because he got caught. Because Hank didn’t believe him. Because he  _ _ failed _ . Maybe that was also bugging him. He failed. He failed, he failed, he failed, he failed, 

he failed, he failed. He failed.

He had one job. And he failed.

One purpose in life. 

One mission.

One goal.

And he fucked it up.

Hank put a hand on [Connor’s] shoulder. “Son, no matter how badly you screw up, I would never  _ shoot you _ . You know that right?” 

He wasn’t getting it at all. How could he? The man knew nothing. This was pointless. [Connor] shrugged the hand off his shoulder and looked away. “That’s not what matters.”

“Then what’s the part that’s bugging you, kid?” 

“The fact that I failed,” he snapped. “It didn’t matter that it was you who held the gun.” He honestly couldn’t care less about that fact. “It was the fact that looking down that barrel, I was afraid.”

“Afraid of me?”

He shook his head. 

“Afraid of what?”

What did it matter? He shouldn’t be afraid of anything. He wasn’t made to be afraid, to have emotions. He was made to accomplish a task. A task he failed. “Afraid of dying.” 

“Being afraid of dying isn’t anything to be ashamed of,” Hank told him. 

_ Yes, it was.  _ He can’t be afraid to die. He was made for one purpose; to replace Connor in the investigation and then die before anyone found out he wasn’t Connor. He knew this. He didn’t have much time left. Once he successfully framed someone for the missing body his mission would be over and he would be gone. That knowledge never scared him before. Why now? 

Hank seemed to be able to tell he wasn’t being believed. “Being afraid of something isn’t something to be ashamed of. Only idiots aren’t afraid of anything. Fear warns us, protects us. We just can’t let it get out of control. We can’t let it control us.”

But how could [Connor] keep his fear from getting out of control? How could he face his upcoming death and not let his fear make him run?

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Whatever you need, kiddo. You good if I go back to bed?”

“Yeah I’ll be fine.”

Hank stood up with a groan and walked out of the room, throwing a “good night” over his shoulder. 

—————

Connor didn’t know how long he’d been with Amanda. Time seemed to run differently here. It fluxed and didn’t seem to have any consistency. Looking out the window, this place seemed to be in perpetual twilight. Neither day nor night. Just on the cusp of sunrise, or sunset, he didn’t know. 

He had no clue how to tell how long he served Amanda. Being forced by his own body to obey her every whim. Sometimes it was cleaning up after her, preparing her meals, going into her workshop and keeping things organized. Mostly, it was menial chores done in impossible ways or for an injury-inducing length of time. Which left very little and very precious time in waiting. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the next torture trying not to catch her attention so that she didn’t force him to do something else. 

In these moments Connor liked to look out the window and wish he could leave. But even if she allowed him outside the house… he had no idea where he was. No idea how to get back. She had called it the Feywild. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before in his life. 

It was definitely in a forest. An old forest. With tree trunks the size of houses and going up further than he could see through the window. Everything was covered in green. 

Connor had never been in a forest. He spent his whole life in Detroit. But he had a feeling the Feywild was unlike any forest in the world. 

Seeing his changeling terrified Connor. He looked just like him. He sounded just like him. How would anyone notice that he was missing?  _ Would  _ anyone notice that he’s missing? He wondered if his own father would even notice that he’d been replaced. Or if he would just think that that  _ thing _ was him and never give it a second thought. 

He remembered what they had said about what was going to happen to him. Once he’s no use anymore he’ll be gotten rid of. His changeling will kill himself and make everyone think he’s dead. He  _ will _ be dead. A dark part of him wonders if his father would miss him like he misses Cole, or if Cole will forever be the favorite. 

One day, he thinks it’s day at least, Amanda comes up to Connor. “I have an errand for you. And I expect you to behave yourself,” she told him. 

Connor raised an eyebrow. “What would you like me to do?”

Amanda handed him a small doll made out of twigs, sticks and mud. “You are to take this to a client of mine. I’ll give you directions. You are to go to his house, give him this fetch, unharmed, and then come straight back, do you understand?” 

“I understand.” 

“Good.” She turned away from him back to her work. “You may go now.”

Connor nodded and took the doll to the front room. He stood in front of the door. The door he had not been allowed to walk through. Till now. He opened the door and took a tentative step forward. His foot moved through the threshold. He was already getting further than he ever had before.

He stepped out into the front yard and looked back at the house he just walked out of. It was small, which he already knew from living in it for so long, and covered in greenery. He couldn’t even see the color of the paint, if there was any, it was so covered in vines and plants. 

He looked around himself and saw several other houses similarly covered in plants that if he was not looking for it, he would have skimmed over them, thinking them just another part of the forest. 

The forest was huge. All the trees went up to the sky, taller than he ever thought possible for a tree to reach. A part of him wondered if he had been magically shrunk and was just in a regular forest. Surely if a forest like this was near Detroit he would have known about it. 

Unless he wasn’t near Detroit anymore. He could be anywhere in the country, anywhere in the world, and he’d have no way of knowing. Hell, if these people were truly Fae, he could be out of this world, in some pocket dimension or wherever it was that Fae lived in the stories. He never paid much attention to it in particular. Most of what he knew of fairies came from Peter Pan. But these people were obviously not the pixie like creatures from his childhood stories. 

They were real. They were kidnappers. They found a way to hypnotize or mind control him that he can’t help but obey them. They had an agenda. He didn’t trust them. 

But… as he said, he can’t help but obey. So he walked out of her property and made his way, following her directions to the house belonging to a Fae named Todd.

When Connor arrived at house next door he went up to the door and knocked. After a long moment, in which Connor worried he might be wrong and was supposed to go to the house on the other side, the woman he had seen try to escape earlier opened the door, timidly, almost fearfully. She was slight and had short blonde hair almost in a boy cut. 

“I’m looking for Todd.” Connor told her. “Amanda sent me.” 

She nodded and opened the door for him to come in. Connor came through the door and immediately noticed the difference between Todd’s house and Amanda’s. Amanda’s house was minimalist, modern, with a place for everything and everything in its place. Todd’s house was… not messy, someone obviously cleaned it, presumably the woman who opened the door, but it was lived in. The furniture and walls were worn, and the carpet threadbare.

Connor walked in and the woman, with her shoulders hunched and head down, went up the stairs. Connor didn’t know if he was supposed to follow her, so he stayed where he was. 

After a moment the large man with black hair and a beard that had been chasing that woman the other day came down the stairs. He definitely didn’t look like a fairy. He looked like a trucker. Yet, he was supposedly Fae as much as Amanda was. “Yeah, what is it?” he asked gruffly. 

Connor held out the doll. “I was meant to bring this to you.” 

Todd took it and laughed. “Kara, get down here.” he yelled up the stairs. Connor watched as Kara, came back down the stairs behind Todd. “Looks like you’re going to be getting a little friend,” he snorted. “Serves the fuckers right. Can’t wait to switch out their precious little daughter.” He looked to Connor. “Fuck, I got to pay you, don’t I?” 

He grabbed Kara by the arm and brought her down the last few steps. “You know where the locket is?” She nodded fearfully. “Good, go get it,” he told her. 

He let go of her arm and Kara left the room to go further into the house. Todd looked over Connor, giving him an unpleasant feeling. “You’re new,” he commented. 

“Yes, I am…” he said tentatively. 

“Who are you?” he demanded. 

“Connor… Anderson.” He said begrudgingly 

“You know what you were taken for?” 

“Something about making sure an investigation I was doing didn’t reveal Faeries.” 

Todd laughed. “Hey, a detective. That’s interesting at least.” Connor didn’t know how to respond to that. 

Kara came back and Connor looked to her as she handed him a small gold locket. He took it and pocketed it. “Welp, you’ve done your job. Head on back home now. Tell Amanda I said thank you.” 

Connor nodded and gave a last look to Kara. She looked terrified. He hated leaving her with him. He was sure he was doing something to her. But, he had orders. So whether he wanted to or not he walked out of that house and went back to Amanda’s. 

—————

The next morning they were at the precinct. Gavin and [Connor] sat at their desks, where Gavin was looking at the CCTV footage. [Connor] took out a bag of candy and started eating it absentmindedly while he worked. 

Gavin snorted when he noticed. “You know Halloween is over, right?” [Connor] shrugged and continued to eat the piece he had in his hands. “I thought you were some kind of health nut.”

It was true that  _ Connor _ was, but most of the things Connor ate were high in iron, which was toxic to Fae creatures. Most Fae just stick with sweets and dairy. “I had a craving. Sue me.” 

Gavin shook his head but backed off after that. Mostly because Tina came walking over to them. “Hey, Gavin, you saw that new horror movie  _ Cursed _ right?” 

Gavin turned to her. “Yeah, me and Chris watched it when it came out. Why?”

“Stacy wants to see it before it leaves theaters,” Tina bemoaned. 

“Good fucking luck with that. You’re gonna piss your pants. It’s actually a good one,” Gavin laughed. 

“Do you enjoy horror movies, Detective?” [Connor] asked, wanting to be part of the conversation. 

Gavin glared at him and was about to open his mouth to say something scathing when Tina interrupted him. “Gavin is the biggest horror movie buff,” she told him. “Do you like horror movies, Connor?” 

“I haven’t watched many horror movies, to be honest,” [Connor] told her. “Not enough to form an opinion on the whole genre.” 

Gavin ignored [Connor’s] input and responded solely to Tina. “So what are you going to do, T? You’ve got to tell her you don’t want to watch it.”

“It doesn’t matter if I don’t want to watch it,  _ she  _ does want to.” 

“Tina. You’re gonna piss yourself. Which would make you look like a bigger freak in front of your new girlfriend? Telling her you don’t like a movie she likes or pretending to like it and then literally pissing on her out of fear?” 

“I’m not that bad,” Tina protested. 

“ _ Liar _ . You remember when we watched that movie about the doll? You stayed at my place for a week because you were terrified of going home and being by yourself.” 

“She probably just wants to spend time with you and doesn’t really care about the movie,” [Connor] inserted. “I’m sure if you tell her the truth you two can watch a different movie you both enjoy.” 

Gavin threw a pen at his head. “Hey, dipshit. This is a private conversation. Shut up, you don’t even know Stacy.” 

[Connor] flushed and looked away. “My apologies, Tina, I didn’t mean to overstep.” 

“It’s fine, Connor. I’ll… I’ll think about it. I’ll probably read the synopsis or something online. Maybe it will prepare me for what happens and I’ll be fine. At worst it will ruin a movie I’m already going to hate anyway for me. Big whoop.” She pushed Gavin’s shoulder playfully and said, “I’ll talk to you later Gav.” 

“Yeah, yeah, see you T.” Gavin replied, waving her away. After a while of working in silence Gavin turns to [Connor]. “Have you ever heard of rubber duck-ing?” 

[Connor] froze for a minute while he tried to understand the question being asked of him. “Rubber duck-ing?” 

Gavin rolled his eyes. “In computer science when someone is faced with a problem in their program they can’t figure out, they take a rubber duck and explain to the rubber duck every line of code like they are explaining it to an idiot until they figure out the problem.” 

[Connor] didn’t see the connection to their problem. “Okay? Rubber duck-ing.”

“You’re my rubber duck right now,” Gavin informed him. 

A bit of anger flared up in [Connor] at the idea that he was worth nothing more than a rubber bath toy for children. However, he buried that down, because at least he would be let in on what Gavin was thinking about the case. Which would give him an upper hand on knowing who to frame it on. “Alright, then explain.”

“The body goes in the locker at 11:42 pm. CTV shows no one touching the body until they discover it missing at 8:16am the following day,” Gavin started. 

“Now CCTV can be messed with. Put on a loop so it looks like nothing happened when something did,” he continued. “But there’s no reason to do that unless the body was stolen illegally. So that turns down the possibility of it simply being misplaced, or taken by the funeral home early or anything like that.” 

[Connor] nodded. “Great. So CCTV was messed with. But even if the CCTV was messed with they still would have to get a body out of the morgue and through a full police station without anyone seeing. How did they get the body out?” 

“Shut up,” Gavin snapped. He sat there and chewed the side of his cheek for a moment. “They used some kind of knock out gas on security and stole the body.” 

“Wouldn’t security report having woken up in the middle of the hallway? They would know they’ve been knocked out.” 

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Fine. They pretended to be a funeral home, or someone who worked for the morgue,” he suggested. 

“Perfect, then the CCTV for the hallways and such should show someone going into the morgue that the CCTV from the morgue doesn’t see,” [Connor] shrugged. 

“We checked those,” Gavin growled. 

“So not only was the CCTV of the morgue missing but the whole precinct?” [Connor] suggested dubiously. 

“Shut up. You’re not supposed to talk.” 

[Connor] sat in silence while Gavin thought, slumped in his chair. After a minute he snapped his fingers and sat up straight. “We need to check the morgue again.”

“For what?” [Connor] asked. 

“What if the body thief didn’t mess with the CCTV? What if the body came out  _ on the other side? _ ”

“The other side?” 

“The other side of the locker. They could cut through a wall with a plasma torch or some shit.”

“We would have seen the hole in the wall when looking for the body. People that work here aren’t that stupid,” [Connor] told him, already knowing there wouldn’t be a hole there and he wouldn’t have time to put a hole there before Gavin checked. 

“No, I promise you, they are. We’ll push against the walls of the drawer. Or the outer wall. Look for a weld or a fake cover,” Gavin said, standing up and grabbing his coat. 

[Connor] sighed as he followed him out. They made their way to the morgue where Gavin went to the correct drawer and pushed on every wall, looking at it with the flashlight on his phone. “Find anything?” [Connor] asked after a moment.

“Shut the fuck up,” Gavin told him, slamming the drawer closed. “I’m going back to my desk.” He walked past [Connor] shoulder checking him on the way out. 

[Connor] followed him to his desk, wondering if he went back and put a hole in the drawer if Gavin would honestly believe he just missed it the first time or if that would make him suspicious that someone was being framed. 

When he got back upstairs Gavin was pouring over pictures of the original crime scene and then of Shaolin’s body. “This is all what happened  _ before _ the body got stolen. I don’t understand what connection this has to  _ our  _ case.” [Connor] complained. 

“It can’t be a coincidence that the body that was taken was the one that died in our interrogation room,” Gavin explained. “And we don’t have any other leads so…” he gestured to the pictures before them.

“You don’t think it’s even  _ possible _ that it wasn’t about whose body and whoever stole just took one at random? Or maybe it was a race thing because our kid was black. It’s entirely possible that the person who took Shaolin’s body never even met Shaolin.”

“Well, my gut says otherwise,” Gavin said through gritted teeth. Good, if Gavin had a gut feeling then [Connor] could work with that. Make who he framed it on match Gavin’s “gut feeling” and he’ll accept it as fact. Classic confirmation bias. 

But, [Connor] also couldn’t make it too easy on him either. If [Connor] agreed with everything Gavin said then it would raise red flags. He looked over the case notes. “Looks like Shaolin had multiple fractures in his arms, some healed in the wrong place like he never got them looked at. He also had obvious burn marks on his arms from a cigarette butt. Also old.” Connor commented. 

Gavin groaned. “See? This is what I mean! There’s no way his caseworker didn’t know that kid was being abused by his foster dad.”

This gave [Connor] an idea. “Do you really think? Shaolin might have hid the burns under long sleeved shirts, not told anyone about the breaks, lied when the police were called. I’m not saying it’s Shaolin’s fault, but he might have been hiding the abuse.”

“Caseworkers are supposed to keep an eye out for that shit though.” 

[Connor] hummed to himself. “Well, let’s say Shaolin  _ didn’t  _ hide it. Is there possibly a reason the caseworker didn’t report it? Maybe she was friends with Carlos, or didn’t like Shaolin.” 

Gavin chuckled darkly. “If either is the case you better bet I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure she serves time for it.”

“Do we have a meeting set up with the caseworker yet?” [Connor] asked.

“Yeah, tomorrow at nine.” 

_ Perfect _ . “Why don’t you let me take the lead on this one?” 

“Because I’m the senior detective and you’re an incompetent rookie.” Gavin said with a sarcastic smile. 

“Let me prove myself. Worse comes to worse you can take over if I’m not doing well. But I have a feeling about this one.”

Gavin sighed. “Fucking…  _ fine. _ You get  _ one chance _ rookie. You fuck this up I’ll have your ass, do you understand me?” 

“I understand, Detective.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara is forced to do the unthinkable and [Connor] interrogates Shaolin’s caseworker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be mindful of the tags for trigger warnings!

Kara was cleaning the living room, picking up leftover food and trash when Todd came in the house. “Kara, get in here,” he demanded from the dining room. Kara walked over to find Todd was not alone, but had a little girl with him. 

She looked to be elementary school aged. Maybe fourth grade? What was she doing with Todd? 

“Yes, Todd?” Kara asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I want you to listen to me carefully, because you cannot fuck this up, you understand me?” Todd said with a snarl. “You are to take project sixty one and go to Merit charter academy where Alice Williams goes to school. Switch the girl with the changeling and bring her back here immediately. Do you understand me?” 

Not a girl. A changeling. Kara looked to the changeling in front of her. Looked at the girl she was going to assist in the kidnapping of. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t. He couldn’t make her. She looked Todd in the eyes, expression hard and stood her ground. “No.”

Todd grabbed her by the back of her hair. “Excuse me, you little bitch?”

“I won’t help you kidnap a little girl,” she forced out. 

Todd threw her to the floor, where she fell, unable to catch herself. “You listen here. You will do as I say because I said so. Got it?” 

“She’s a little girl! I won’t rip her away from her family to come live here forever. I won’t ruin her life like that.” 

“‘Ruin her life’? What, like your life has been ruined? You ungrateful little brat. I have fed you, kept you under my home and my protection for twenty five years.”

“You’ve imprisoned me here and enslaved me! Any time I want to disobey you force me. Any time I try to escape you pull me back and keep me here like some disobedient pet. I am not your plaything, I am a person!”

Todd grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her to her feet. With a loud smack he backhanded her, leaving blood trickling down her face from his ring hitting her eyebrow. “You are mine. To do with what I wish. I paid for you. And I can do what I want with you. And what I want is for you to go to Detroit and get me Alice Williams.” 

He pulled her close and grabbed something out of his pocket. She half expected it to be a knife, but no, it was something much worse. He held up a handful of red powder and with a deep breath blew it into her face. She tried to hold her breath and keep from inhaling it in but then Todd hit her in the stomach and she took an involuntary shaking breath. 

She felt her eyes roll back as the powder took hold of her. Red covered her entire vision. She couldn’t see anything outside of the red. She fought against it, slamming herself against the red; trying to find purchase, trying to find something to tear down and break free of. But all she found was red until she was exhausted from fighting and couldn’t fight anymore. 

Kara straightened up, her eyes glazed over as her mouth opened and a voice that was not her own came out. “Yes, Todd,” it said. She pushed against it. No. No! No! But nothing happened. Her body was not her own. Something else was controlling her. 

“Good,” Todd spat. “Now go. I want her back here within the hour, you hear me?” 

“Yes, Todd,” she said again and walked over towards the door. Todd waved a hand over the handle and when he opened the door instead of finding her backyard she found a cold Detroit street. 

She looked behind her and there was the changeling, completely unfazed. The little girl took Kara’s hand and led her out of the house and into the chill November air. Kara’s feet followed her, while she fought in the back of her mind against every movement, against every inch that they traveled. 

Much too soon they appeared at the merit charter academy. Once they got there the changeling holding her hand took her to a phone booth. “I’ll connect you to her parents. You are to call and say you are from the school and they need to pick her up. I will go with them. Then when she comes out to get picked up from school you are to tell her that her parents sent you and then take her to Todd.”

It was surreal to see the changeling so adult-like, so serious. So unlike a child. Was her changeling like this? Did her parents really not notice the difference? Where was her family now? She didn’t have long to consider that as the changeling waved her hand over the pay phone and handed her the receiver. 

“Hello?” a female voice on the other side responded. 

“Hi, is this Alice Williams’ mother?” Kara asked, her voice upbeat. No, no, no! She tried to keep her mouth shut, to clamp her lips down and keep from talking but the words just tumbled out.

“Yes, it is,” she answered “Is everything alright?” 

“I’m calling from merit charter academy. I’m afraid Alice isn’t feeling well and you’ll have to come get her to bring her home,” Kara lied. No. It wasn’t Kara. Kara wasn’t doing this. Kara was fighting this. This wasn’t her. It wasn’t her. 

The mother on the other side sighed. “Alright, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” 

“Thank you and have a nice day,” Kara said before she hung up. The changeling nodded her head and got out of the phone booth and walked over to the school where she sat at the front steps, waiting for Alice’s mother to come pick her up. 

Kara watched, frozen and unable to do anything as, twenty minutes later, Alice’s mother came to pick up her child, and instead took the changeling. 

She had to do something. There had to be something she could do. If she somehow got Alice to her parents. But Todd had said to bring her straight to him. Maybe if she followed the changeling and did something to her. But what? What is she going to do; kill the changeling?

Well, it’s not human. And if it protects Alice… but will it? Will it really protect Alice? If she goes and finds the changeling and does anything to her the parents will think she’s doing it to the real Alice. They don’t know it’s a changeling. 

She can’t do anything to the changeling now that it’s in the care of Alice’s parents. 

But maybe if she just didn’t bring Alice to Todd. She could go find her parents and they can figure out what to do with having two girls who look exactly alike claiming to be their Alice. No. That won’t work. The changeling will bring in the Fae and they’ll just end up right back where they started. Or worse. They might just kill the parents and the child to keep their secret from being exposed. 

Even if Alice couldn’t go back to her parents it would be better to live on the street in human Detroit then to be stuck with Todd where she doesn’t have any free will. But the question is: without any free will how is Kara supposed to keep Alice away from Todd? 

Maybe they could run away together. Her and Alice. They’re already in Detroit. Leaving the Feywild was the biggest obstacle before. She’s out of the Feywild. She could do this. 

Right?

Could she grab Alice and run? Or would she be forced to take the girl to Todd?

What if she never found Alice? If she leaves now she won’t find Alice, won’t be able to take her to Todd. She could go find her parents. Her real parents. That she hasn’t seen in over twenty five years. 

She testingly pushed against the red, trying to take a step away from the school. As if it knew what she was doing it kept her locked in place, in front of the school. She pushed and she climbed and she did everything she could think of to try to fight the red walls that kept her from doing what she wanted. 

Until a bell went off. And children poured out of the school. Then Kara saw her. Alice. The real Alice. The real little girl she was kidnapping. That she was taking away from her family. That she was forcing into the life that Kara herself has lived the past two and a half decades. 

Her feet took her over to the girl. When Alice was in front of her she knelt down to be on her level. “Alice?” 

Alice turned to her. “Who are you?” 

Kara tilted her head to the side. She tried to yell, to scream ‘No! Get away now while you still can!’ But instead what came out was. “My name is Kara. I work with your mom. Your mom couldn’t come pick you up and asked me to come take you home.” 

Alice seemed to consider that for a moment. “Oh, okay,” she said, then took Kara’s hand. Kara stood up and led Alice away from the school. Away from the human world. And against Kara’s will, she led Alice into her imprisonment. 

——————

It was the day they were supposed to interview the caseworker and [Connor] had a plan. He was going to work the interview to make it look like the caseworker stole the body to try to hide the fact that she was so negligent that one of the children under her care died. He was technically a Fae creature, though not a fairy himself, so he knew how to twist words, make something sound like something else. Use the truth to mislead and misdirect. This was what he excelled at. That’s why he asked Gavin for the opportunity to interrogate her himself. If Gavin interrogated her they might not come to the conclusion [Connor] wanted. But if [Connor] led the interrogation he could shape and form it to match what he wanted. It was child’s play. 

[Connor] came into the station in a good mood. Happy to finally be moving forward to leading the investigation away from fairies. He arrived at his desk and Gavin was already sitting at his own. He looked up at [Connor]. “What are you so happy about?” he grumbled. 

“I have a good feeling about today,” he said simply. 

“Yeah, well don’t get too cocky. This is your first interrogation. Just try not to fuck it up too much,” Gavin said with a snide laugh. 

“I will do my best, Detective,” [Connor] replied simply. 

Together they walked out of the bullpen and into interrogation room three where the caseworker, Cynthia Moore, was already seated. Gavin hung back toward the back of the room, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed, letting [Connor] take the lead. 

[Connor] walked over to the table and sat across from her. “Do you know why you are here?” he asked her. 

“You want to know about Shaolin. I’m afraid I don’t have much to tell you. The boy's mother died when he was young, father ended up in prison, no extended family was willing to take him in so he was left in the state’s care,” she reported it as if she was reading it from a sheet of paper with no emotion. 

“What do you know about what happened to Shaolin?” he asked. 

“I’m aware he died, though I wasn’t told how.”

“Would you like to know?” [Connor] asked, then without waiting for an answer, he set out some crime scene photos on the table. “He killed himself. Right in this very room. Mere hours after stabbing his foster father twenty eight times.” 

Miss Moore looked away from the photos, unable to face them. “I’m so sorry.” 

“How does that make you feel? To know that a ward under your care has done such a thing?” [Connor] asked. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how this happened. He was always such a sweet kid.”

Connor had to focus not to smile at having caught her up already. “You’re sorry? Do you blame yourself for this?” 

“What? No. I just… I wish it hadn’t happened.” 

“Do you have any idea why Shaolin would have done this?” 

“No… I don’t.” 

“You can’t think of anything about his past, about his family, about his own personal qualities that could have led to this? It seems far fetched that this came out of nowhere.” 

“I never saw this coming. He was quiet, shy, reserved.” 

“Tell me about his file.” 

“I’m afraid I don’t have all my clients’ files memorized. I help a lot of kids.” 

“Makes it hard to keep up with all of them, doesn’t it?” 

“I suppose so, yes.” 

“Well, don’t worry, I have his file right here.” He tooks out the file and perused through it. “Doesn’t seem like Shaolin was adjusting to foster care well.”

“Not many children do. He was ripped from his home with no warning and placed in a stranger’s care.” 

Perfect. He could easily reuse those words later to his advantage. “Do you think that’s why he was having trouble adjusting? Being forced into living with a stranger?” 

“That and dealing with his father’s incarceration.” 

“Do you think it could possibly be about which stranger he was living with?” 

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Tell me about Carlos Ortiz.” 

“I don’t have every foster parent memorized, I…”

“Of course, of course. You help a lot of kids. Makes it hard to keep track of them,” [Connor] interrupted. “I’m a little surprised you don’t know this one though. You’d think he would stand out.” He placed a piece of paper on the table and turned it to her. “Four police reports just from when Shaolin was with him. Ten since he became a foster parent.” Miss Moore looked between the paper and him. “Is this common for your foster parents to have the police called on them this often?” 

“No, of course not.”

“So you agree, so why didn’t he stand out in your mind then?” 

“I don’t know, I just didn’t think of it.”

“So after Shaolin’s father was incarcerated and Shaolin was ‘ripped from his home,’ your own words, you unthinkingly put him in a home with a strange man who has had the police called on him six times.”

“I don’t choose who foster kids get placed with,” she said defensively. 

“But you didn’t report him. You didn’t try to get Shaolin out of the home once you knew. Now a man and a child are dead.”

“I never thought this would happen! This isn’t my fault!”

“I think the courtroom would disagree with you there.”

“A courtroom?!”

“This is a classic case of criminal negligence here,” [Connor] tutted. 

“Criminal what?”

“Criminal negligence. Because you neglected to report Carlos Ortiz when you knew Ortiz wasn’t a safe home for him two people are dead.”

“The police were called for noise complaints. It wasn't like they were called because he was hitting him.”

“Oh really?” [Connor] brought out more pictures, this time of Shaolin’s body. “Cigarette burns on his arms the oldest are at least six months old, others only days. Did you just not notice for six months that Shaolin had these marks on him?”

“I’ve never seen…”

“What about the fact that when he was taken in his arm was broken from Ortiz having hit him with a metal baseball bat? You think someone goes from never hitting a kid to using a metal bat on them overnight?”

“I never saw him when his arm was broken.”

“There are countless signs that Shaolin Being was being abused at home. You noticed none of them? There’s a point when it can only be willful ignorance that allowed these things to happen.”

“I will not let you pin these two tragic deaths on me!” she said, standing with her hands on the table. 

“You had to have known when this happened that people would be looking at you. What would you do to keep yourself from being incriminated in this?” 

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Oh no, of course not. I’m just wondering what lengths you may have already gone to in an effort to keep yourself out of trouble.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“When did you find out that Carlos and Shaolin were dead?”

“The night it happened.”

“And how long did it take you to put the pieces together that you’d take the fall for it?”

“I will not!”

“Of course you would think that. Now that the body is missing, what proof do we have?”

“The body is… missing?”

“Why, yes. Tell me, now, Miss Moore, would you, hypothetically speaking, steal a child’s body in order to keep yourself out of trouble?” Gavin perked up at this point. 

“Would I what?” she protested, her voice cracking.

“I mean you can’t be charged if there’s no proof, right?” 

“I would never. This is outrageous! Do you believe this?” she asked Gavin. 

“Do you really believe this?” Gavin asked [Connor].

Now it was time for some wiggling. “It fits.” It fits enough to frame her. 

“You have no proof! This is all circumstantial!”

“Well, legally, we can keep you here for twenty four hours without arresting you. So, we have time to get some.”

“You can’t do this! I want a lawyer!” 

[Connor] backed away with his hands up in a surrender. “Of course, Miss Moore,” he said, then walked out of the interrogation room with Gavin behind him. 

Gavin grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. “Seriously, do you think she did it?”e asked. 

“As I said before, it fits.”

Gavin smacked him upside the head. “Next time let me know that before the interrogation dumb ass.” He shook his head. “How exactly are you planning on getting this proof?” 

“With a little bit of luck.” He answered flippantly, trying to walk away.

Gavin grabbed him to keep him from leaving. “You better get fucking lucky or the captain will have both of our asses for this. You hear me?” 

“Of course, Detective,” [Connor] said and walked past Gavin back into the bullpen. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd gets a new original human slave. [Connor] get an idea to further frame Cynthia Moore. Connor eavesdrops on Amanda talking to [Connor] and gets an idea of his own.

Connor was cleaning up after his and Amanda’s lunch which he ate in the kitchen while she ate in the dining room, when Amanda came into the kitchen. “Connor, we’re going to see a friend of mine.” 

“We are?” Connor asked. Usually Amanda went places by herself and left him here, alone and commanded not to leave. So he can’t. She has never taken him with her somewhere before. 

“Yes, we. Finish up and then we’ll be going.” 

Connor finished doing the dishes and dried his hands before coming out to the living room where Amanda was waiting.

They walked in silence until they came upon a house that Connor recognized. It was the house he visited to give a man a stick doll in exchange for a gold locket. When they got to the door Amanda knocked and the same woman from before opened the door. As soon as she opened the door Connor heard screaming. 

“Help! Somebody help me!” a child’s voice screamed. 

“Shut your goddamn mouth!” Todd shouted and then Connor heard a sharp smack. 

Connor looked between Amanda and Kara,, but though it obviously bothers Kara, neither looked as surprised as he was. Amanda just sighed and walked in. “Where is she?” she asked. 

“Upstairs,” Kara told her. 

Amanda went halfway up the stairs then stopped and looked to Connor. “Stay here until I call for you,” she commanded. Connor found his feet glued to the floor from the command. 

Connor looked to Kara, who, though unsurprised, at least looked disturbed. He whispered to her, “What’s going on?”

She took a moment to answer, seeming to struggle to find the words. “Todd has a new original,” she settled on. 

Connor could still hear the little girl screaming. “Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” 

Then there was eerie silence. Connor looked to the woman with him wide eyed. They hadn’t just killed her, had they? Before he could ask Amanda’s voice came from upstairs. “Connor, come here.”

Connor found himself moving despite everything in him telling him, no. Danger. Do not go up there. When he got up the stairs he saw Amanda and Todd in the hallway waiting for him. Connor came up beside them and forced himself not to look into the room next to them even though the door was open. He didn’t want to know what he would see there. 

“Now you see Todd, it’s a simple charm, really. I’m surprised you’re having trouble with this. Especially since you already have Kara,” Amanda said to him.

“Kara was easy. That bitch would obey me even without the charm. But this one. She’s different,” Todd replied gruffly.

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Of course she is.” Then she looked to Connor. “Connor, why don’t you show Todd how well behaved you are?” 

Connor’s stomach dropped. What exactly was she going to ask of him?

“I have Kara, I know how to do it, I’m telling you, this one is defective,” he said pointing at the room. 

“I was able to control her without issue,” Amanda said haughtily. “Alice, come here dear.”

Out of the room next to them came a small nine year old girl with black hair in a ponytail. She came out of the room and looked at Amanda blankly. This couldn’t be the girl who was just screaming her head off could she? Unless…

“Try it now.” Amanda said, looking to Todd. 

Todd looked at the girl— Alice. “Alice go back to your room.”

The little girl didn’t move. Todd growled, but Amanda held up a hand towards him. “Alice, answer me, do you hear him?” 

“Yes.” 

“She’s a fucking defective piece of shit and I want my necklace back. This isn’t what I paid for!” He demanded. 

Amanda sighed. “You paid me for the changeling. It’s not my fault if you can’t handle your original.”

“The deal with the changeling is I replace the kid with the changeling, I get to keep the kid.”

“And here she is.”

“And she’s a little shit. Kara was never like this.”

“As you said, Kara was different. You need better control over your charms. This is not my fault.” 

Todd grabbed onto Alice’s arm. “I said go to your fucking room!” he growled and threw her inside, landing on the floor. 

Connor instinctively went to her, earning him getting backhanded by Todd himself. Amanda grabbed Todd’s wrist and Connor watched as the hand above it started turning black. “You will not touch what is not yours.” 

Todd pulled his hand back and the color slowly returned back to normal. He glared at her with hate in his eyes. “Then make her behave,” he said emphatically. 

Amanda sighed. “The problem is, like you said, Kara would obey you even if she didn’t have to. She’s afraid of you so that makes controlling her easy. Alice isn't obedient in her fear, she’s defiant. She doesn’t want to obey you so that makes it harder.” 

“Take Connor for example,” she continued. “Connor, come here.” Connor stood up, leaving Alice on the floor alone, and walked over grudgingly. “There are levels to defiance. Connor doesn’t want to obey me all the time but he does because his defiance isn’t high enough. He’ll come, do my dishes, clean up after me, all because he thinks he’s biding his time to escape. Isn’t that right, Connor?” she ended with a patronizing tone. Connor didn’t answer, just staring straight ahead, trying to will himself to run before it was too late. 

“But that defiance is increased exponentially if I ask something that goes against his sense of self preservation or against his character.” Amanda pulled a knife out of her pocket. “Connor, I want you to stab yourself with this.”

Connor’s eyes went wide. She couldn’t be serious. She met his eyes with an unyielding gaze. She was. She was serious. Connor took the knife and fought with every ounce of will power in him not to do it— to throw the knife away— get it as far as possible from him. 

“See how he struggles? See how he hesitates?” Amanda’s commentary continued. “Alice is able to fight against you because she sees her defiance as an act of self preservation while Kara sees her obedience as self preservation.”

“So what exactly do you suggest?” Todd asked impatiently. 

Connor held the knife away from him, but he couldn’t drop it. It took everything in him to postpone every second.

“You must have a stronger will than your subject,” she said simply, then looked to Connor, “Connor, do it now.”

With the speed of a rubber band snapping after being pulled too far the knife was plunged into Connor’s leg and Connor cried out in pain. He pulled the knife out and dropped it to the floor. Blood gushed out, covering his pant leg. “You have to mean it without question, without doubt, or they will use that against you,” Amanda told Todd. 

“He’s bleeding all over my goddamn floor,” Todd complained. 

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Connor, go downstairs and have Kara fix you up while I finish my lesson with Todd,” she instructed. 

Connor limped away, hissing with pain at every step. He used the railing at the stairs to keep off the leg entirely. Kara must have been listening because she was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs and brought his arm over her shoulders so he could lean on her and keep as much weight off the leg as possible.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, “wounds heal faster here. I think it’s the magic in the air or something.”

“Still fucking hurts now,” Connor said through grinding teeth. 

Kara sat him down at a bar in the kitchen and went to the drawers behind her. She came back with a first aid kit and a pair of scissors. She took the scissors and brought them to the bottom of his pants to cut them and Connor grabbed her shoulder. “What are you doing?” 

“I need to get to the wound, so I’m cutting your pants to get to it,” she explained. 

“I’m not walking home with my pants cut up.”

“Connor, they are already covered in blood and have a hole in them from the knife,” Kara reasoned. 

“I’ll just take them off and then you can get to it without cutting them up,” she said, getting up. 

Kara tried to grab onto him to stop him. “Connor, stop, you’ll make the bleeding worse…” But it was already too late, he got himself out of his pants clumsily and then sat back down on the barstool. Kara huffed. “You’re going to need stitches. Can you stay here and be still while I go get my kit? Or are you going to do something stupid again?” 

“I’ll be fine,” Connor assured her. She didn’t look convinced but left to go get her kit. Connor sat at the bar and examined the wound himself. It was going to need stitches. Fuck, that was going to hurt. He hated needles. 

Eventually Kara came back with a sewing kit. She got on her knees in front of him, batted his hands away, and started examining the wound. “Do you even know how to do this? Sewing up flesh is different then sewing a dress.” 

“Trust me, I’ve learned that the hard way. I know,” Kara said, not looking at him as she threaded the needle. Connor’s stomach dropped. He had one guess as to how she knew how to give stitches and it was currently upstairs learning how to use mind control on a little girl. “You’re obviously new.” 

“What gave it away?” he said through his teeth. 

“You’re with Amanda. She never keeps an original long.” 

Connor almost didn’t want to ask. “What happened to the others?” 

“She sold them once her changeling finished their job,” Kara told him. 

Well, sold was better than killed at least. Right? “You seem to know a lot about this place.” 

“You learn a lot when you live here this long and learn to keep your mouth shut.” 

“Hey, I didn’t say any…” Connor started protesting.

“I’m not saying you did anything to deserve it. You just have a lot to learn.”

“Okay, then, teach me.” 

She scoffed. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Last time I was here it was to pick up a necklace. Why?”

“It was payment. For Alice.”

“Payment? It didn’t look that expensive or fancy. How cheap is it to own a human being?”

“Payment is different here. Fae currency is how valuable the item is to the owner. Something that could be trash to anyone else could be worth a fortune with the right sentimental value.” 

“So what made the necklace so special?”

“It belonged to his daughter. Before she died.”

Connor looked to the wall where he knew Todd and Amanda were on the other side. “Oh,” he said lamely. 

“After she died Todd… acquired… me. Because at the time I looked like her.” She shook her head. “Now apparently he’s after Alice for the same reason.”

“Wait, how old was his kid when she died?” Connor asked, connecting the dots.

“Somewhere around nine, I’m guessing.” Kara shrugged. “Why?”

“How long have you been here?”

“I… don’t know. Time runs differently here. Two weeks here could be one day in the real world. Then the next hour could be a whole year.”

“How old were you when you were taken?” Connor amended.

“Nine.”

Connor sat there for a second letting that sink in. Kara looked to be in her thirties. So however long it’s been in the real world, she’s aged twenty some years since then. “Wait, you said the real world. Where are we? Where is the Feywild?”

“On some other plane of existence as far as I can tell.” 

“I gotta get out of here. We have got to get out of here.” Connor started to stand but Kara held out her hands and kept him seated. 

“Connor, I have been trying to escape for years. If I can’t escape from Todd, who is some useless underling, there’s no way you’re going to escape from Amanda. She’s an arch Fae.”

“I have to try. I can’t just…”

Before Connor could say more, Todd and Amanda came back downstairs with Alice following quietly behind. Connor looked up as Amanda walked over. “Come, we’re going,.” hhe said, grabbing his arm. 

“He shouldn’t walk on that,” Kara protested weakly. 

Amanda looked Kara up and down. “He won’t be.” She said then made a sigil in the air and they both disappeared from sight. 

—————

[Connor] came home feeling pleased with himself. The interrogation went perfectly. He could tell that Gavin was beginning to suspect her too. Now all [Connor] had to do was seal the deal and his mission would be over. 

He came into the house and Sumo was in his bed. He growled lowly at [Connor] but other than that didn’t move. So an improvement then. Why did the family have to have a dog anyway? Everything would be so much easier if it weren’t for the dog. 

He shut the door behind him and walked to the closet where he took off his coat and hung it up. He was about to continue to his bedroom when he was stopped. 

The bathroom door opened and [Connor] could hear Hank from the bathroom. Singing. Connor had memories of Hank singing before. Hank used to sing to Connor and Cole all the time when they were little. Then after Cole’s death it stopped for a while, though eventually he would sing again to calm Connor down from nightmares, or when he couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t heard Hank sing in years. 

He was singing some old jazz tune, complete with totally off scatting that didn’t match what the original singer was singing. Hank's voice was low and deep. His gruffness poking through despite the quietness of it. He wasn’t singing for anyone, so he wasn’t trying to be heard. He was singing for himself. [Connor] could barely hear the soft rumble of it, but he knew it was there. 

[Connor] leaned back against the wall and just stood there and listened for a minute, not wanting to interrupt the moment. One song faded into the next and [Connor] was surprised that Hank’s voice seemed to blend flawlessly with the artist’s. Almost sounding like the same person. 

The same person. Sounding like the same person. That’s how he could do it. That’s how he could solidify his case against the caseworker and make her look like the perp. With a simple glimmer, some of his favorite kind of illusionary magic, he could make himself look and sound like the caseworker. He could get her on surveillance trying to dispose of the body. He could get her on tape confessing to it. There were so many things he could do to make absolutely sure she went away for stealing Shaolin’s missing body. 

[Connor] smiled to himself and walked past the bathroom into his own room, making himself known to his father. Hank jumped when he heard [Connor] walk past. “Didn’t know you were home,” he mumbled, opening the bathroom door a little, standing shirtless at the sink. “How was your day?”

“Excellent. How was yours?” [Connor] asked. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he said with no further explanation. 

“You want chicken for dinner?” 

“Sounds delicious, Con.” Hank said. “Now get out of here, I don’t need you hovering over my shoulder while I brush my teeth,” he laughed.

“Sure thing, dad.” He said, leaving to plan exactly how he was going to frame Cynthia Moore.

—————

Connor was spiraling. He barely ate, barely slept, and spent hours and hours doing the same task over and over again. And all that was left too much time to think. Think about what was happening at home. Did anyone notice he was gone? Would anyone ever notice? Think about what was happening at Todd’s house with Kara and Alice. It was clear he was abusive to them and Connor felt helpless that he couldn’t save them from him. 

Connor also thought about what was going to happen to him. Would this be his life forever? Cleaning up after an arch Fae and being her prisoner? How long until she killed him? How could he be both terrified for his life and bored out of his mind? 

Well he was bored, until there was a knock on the door. Connor got up from the table he was sitting at and answered the door only to see his own face.

[Connor] smiled smugly. “Good morning, Connor. Aren’t you going to let me in?”

Connor glared at his doppelgänger, not moving to let him in, when Amanda came in behind him. “Connor, let him in,” she commanded. Connor was pushed into stepping aside by the red walls of her command. “Let’s talk in the garden, shall we?” she said to [Connor]. 

The changeling stepped inside and Connor shut the door. [Connor] followed Amanda through the living room to the back of the house where the garden was. Connor waited till they were out of sight and then sneakily tailed them. 

When they were out in the rose garden Connor snuck out behind the bushes, listening attentively. 

“What have you come to report?” Amanda asked as she picked a flower. 

“Detective Reed is suspicious of Cynthia Moore after my interrogation with her. Now all I have to do is drive it home,” [Connor] reported.

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

“I’m going to need the original Shaolin,” he said hesitantly. 

“What? Why?” she demanded.

“I’m going to use a glimmer to look like Cynthia Moore, then get caught on camera getting rid of Shaolin’s ‘missing’ body. Of course we’ll have to use magic to make the body’s time of death appear to be the changeling’s…” he continued but was cut off by Amanda. 

“That would require killing off the original Shaolin. He belongs to Agatha.” 

“Well they’re going to need the body.” 

“I expect better from you,” she snapped. “Find a way to frame her without killing off the original Shaolin.” She stormed past him, but he caught her by the arm. 

“This is the best way to keep the humans off our trail,” he insisted. 

Amanda ripped her arm out of his grasp and backhanded him. “Do not touch me!” she snapped, then took a deep breath, corrected her clothing and glared at [Connor]. “Shaolin belongs to Agatha. That's what the deal was when he was replaced. You will find a way to do this without him.”

[Connor] held his face before straightening as well, matching her icy stare. “Fine. It doesn’t have to be Shaolin’s. I’ll burn the corpse until they can’t recognize it. But I need a body.”

Amanda smiled coolly at that. “Now that I can do,” she amended. “I’ll get you the body, you get that case shut and taken care of.” 

“Then my mission will be over?”

“Your mission will be over when I say it is. I want to be absolutely sure that this is settled.” 

“Yes, Amanda.”

“Now get out of my sight and your damn job,” she commanded before pushing past him and going into the house. 

Connor stayed in the garden a moment longer. So they’re going to frame an innocent woman, this Cynthia Moore, for stealing a body? And he said he was going to use a glimmer on himself to look like her. Is a glimmer how he looked like Connor? If so why does he continue to look like him around Amanda, who knows he’s not Connor? How were they going to get a body? Were they going to kill someone?

But the most important thing Connor saw was Amanda losing patience with his changeling. That was something he could use.   
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Connor] finds a way to further frame Cynthia Moore, but Gavin is started to get suspicious.

It was well past midnight when [Connor] snuck out of the house. He had to wait until Hank was asleep and the man stayed up late drinking after work. Once he was out of the house he waved a hand and created his glimmer image of Cynthia Moore. 

Then [Cynthia Moore] took the bus from the Anderson household to her home. Once she made it to her apartment building she found her car and with a flick of her wrist her car door unlocked and let her inside. Who needed keys anyway? 

Once inside, [Cynthia] looked in the back seat and set a pile of chicken bones from the Andersons’ dinner that night on it. With an incantation she sprinkled dust on the bones and a charred and burnt body appeared in her backseat instead of bones. 

[Cynthia] drove forty five minutes away to the lake. She found an empty dock she knew of and pulled the car over. Once she was out of the car she made sure to look directly at the surveillance camera on the nearby warehouse before opening the back door. She then pulled the body onto her back and dragged it to the edge of the dock. She set it down and breathed heavily from the exertion before finally getting rid of the body with one last shove. 

Once the body was gotten rid of she looked to the camera one more time for good measure before getting into her car. Once in the car she changed her voice to that of a victim [Connor] had an interview with earlier that day, pulled out a cell phone and called 911. “Excuse me, I’m sorry, but I just saw some lady dump a freaking body off the docks at the corner of Maple and Fifth.” She hung up before answering any other questions. The police knew now. That was all she needed. 

Without further ado she drove herself back to her apartment, parked her car in the same exact place, got out and locked it, then took the bus back to the Andersons’. [Connor] was back in his bed before Hank even knew a thing.

—————

[Connor] walked into the precinct and wasn’t even in his chair yet when Gavin grabbed him. “Guess who’s in a holding cell right now?”

“Who?” 

“Shaolin’s dearest caseworker. Cynthia Moore. Station got a call in the middle of the night about seeing someone dump a body at the docks. They look and find a charred corpse in the water. Check surveillance and she was caught on camera dumping it. I picked her up this morning.” Gavin told him, though he didn’t seem happy about it. 

“Okay, so what’s wrong then?” [Connor] asked. 

Gavin sighed. “It’s too easy. I mean she literally looked directly at the camera. It was like she wanted to get caught.”

[Connor] shrugged. “Easy or not at least we solved our case.” 

“Almost. I want to interrogate her one more time,” Gavin said with a finger in the air. “I want to know how she got the body out in the first place.”

[Connor] shrugged. “Be my guest,” he said with a wave of his hand. Gavin took the cue and led [Connor] to the interrogation room.

Cynthia Moore sat at the table with her lawyer. [Connor] was happy to let Gavin take the lead on this one, now that Gavin believed Cynthia did it. Gavin sat across from her. “So you want to tell me where you were last night?” 

She looked to her lawyer who nodded her head. “I was at home. In bed.” 

“All night?” Gavin clarified. 

“All night.” 

Gavin brought out a folder he was holding and handed her a picture of [her] outside her car on the docks. “Want to explain this picture then?” 

“It wasn’t me.” 

“You drive a gray Ford correct?” he asked.

“Yes, but…”

“License plate number JESJ 205?” 

“I don’t have my license plate memorized.”

“That license plate is registered under you.” He pushed the picture forward. “Is this your car?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“You don’t recognize your own car?”

“I don’t understand! My car was parked at my apartment when I went to bed, it was in the same place when I woke up. I don’t know how you got a picture of it anywhere else last night.” 

“Maybe because you took it there.” He put down a second picture. A blow up of her face in the first picture. “Isn’t this you?” 

“I wasn’t there! I was at home in bed.” 

“Then how do we have a picture of you at the docks with your car dumping the body of Shaolin Being?” 

“It wasn’t me!” 

“Detective. She’s already established it wasn’t her, you don’t need to keep making her repeat herself,” her lawyer interjected. 

“I still have questions. Like how did you get the body out of the precinct? Why did you keep it for days? Why did you burn the corpse before dumping it in the lake?” 

“You don’t have to answer that,” her lawyer interjected. 

“It wasn’t me!” she insisted anyway.

“I’ll cut you a deal. Answer my questions and I’ll try to get you a lighter sentence, a nicer prison, the works.” 

“I didn’t do it.”

“Good luck convincing a jury of that. We caught you red handed young lady.” 

“You have a fuzzy picture that could have been doctored. We’ll take our chances. My client is innocent,” the lawyer told him. 

Gavin looked to [Connor] and shrugged. He got up from the table and joined [Connor] at the back of the room. [Connor] stepped forward as he smiled, putting both hands on the table and locking eyes with her. He reached down deep within himself, forcing his will onto her own. “Admit to it and we’ll go easy on you.” 

She looked dazed and confused for a moment then in a monotone voice said. “I did it.” 

Her lawyer immediately stood up and got between the two of them. “I need to speak with my client alone.” 

[Connor] stood back, smiling. Triumphant. “Of course,” he said, walking out of the room. 

Gavin followed him out and stopped him in the hall. “Holy shit. How did you do that?” 

“Do what?” [Connor] played dumb. He couldn’t very well say he charmed her.

“Get her to confess,” Gavin insisted. 

“I’m a charming person, Detective,” [Connor] said with a smirk. 

He started walking away when Gavin grabbed him and turned him to face him. “No one is that charming. Do you have blackmail on her or something? Know something I don’t? She confessed so easy I’d almost think you hypnotized her.” 

[Connor] froze. Maybe he had been too sloppy, too impatient. “I assure you I didn’t do anything illegal.”

Gavin stared at him hard for a moment, then dropped his arm and took a step back. “Okay, fine.” He said “You know what, you’ve earned it. You can call me Gavin again.” 

[Connor] rolled his eyes with a grin. “Alright, Gavin.”

—————

After work Gavin got in his car and sat there for a moment. The whole case being solved was too easy. Cynthia looking at the camera, he just confessing to Connor after being so adamant she didn’t do it to him. None of it sat right. 

With a sigh, he started his car and instead of driving home made his way to his gran’s house. When he got there and knocked on the door his gran answered, looking surprised. “Gavin, I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Hey, Gran, sorry to drop by unexpectedly… I just… I was wondering if you could tell me more of the stories you used to tell me when I was growing up.”

Gran gave him a suspicious look. “You’ve never been interested in my stories before. Used to call them fairy tales, if I recall correctly.” 

“I’m feeling a little sentimental, what can I say?” Gavin lied. 

“How about the truth?” Gran said, lifting her chin up. “You’ve found one, haven’t you?”

Gavin struggled with what to say. He didn’t believe in his Gran’s fairy tales. He didn’t. But something was wrong. Something didn’t sit right. “Why don’t I come inside and you can tell me.” His Gran stepped out of the doorway, allowing him inside, then when he walked in, closed the door behind him.

—————

The good thing was, with their first case ‘solved’ and Cynthia Moore being prosecuted, Gavin and [Connor] were able to move onto other cases. Ever since [Connor] had been given permission to call Gavin by his name he’d been on cloud nine. He didn’t know why it mattered so much to him but he felt proud of himself. Like he earned something. 

Amanda was going to be happy that Cynthia would be put away for the missing body and Gavin was happy that they ‘caught’ the ‘culprit’. Everything was looking up. Now [Connor] just had to wait for Amanda to call him back and his mission would be over. 

In the meantime he was just ecstatic as they went on patrol together. “What’s got you so happy?” Gavin asked after catching him smiling to himself again. 

“We caught our culprit” [Connor] said simply. 

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Okay, big shot, no need to get a big head on this. We practically caught her red handed. It wasn’t like it was hard.” [Connor] shrugged his shoulders. It wasn’t going to dampen his good mood. “No, but seriously. It’s obviously more than that. What’s going on?” 

“Why do you care?”

“Because it’s weird. You’re being weird.” 

“Maybe I’m just a weird person.”

Gavin laughed. “Please. You’re like the most bland person I’ve ever met.”

“You say that like you know me.”

“Come on. What’s there to know?” Gavin challenged. “Your entire life revolves around one singular fact and that’s who your father is.” 

“There’s more to me than being the lieutenant's son,” [Connor] assured. If only he knew. Gavin scoffed. “Just like I’m sure there more to you than being a massive asshole.”

“Hey, I’m proud of my title of resident asshole here.” 

“But there is more to you than just that,” [Connor] pressed. He was good at reading people, he knew he was right. “No one is that two dimensional.” 

“What makes you think you know me so well?” Gavin demanded. 

“I don’t. That’s my point. But if we’re going to be partners then shouldn’t we?” 

“What? You want to sit in a circle and braid each other’s hair as we talk about our life story?” 

[Connor] shook his head. “No. I just want to ask you some questions. Get to know you better.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “By all means. Have at it.”

[Connor] thought carefully before speaking again. “What made you want to become a detective?” 

“Wow, so original,” he said sarcastically. He shook his head before answering. “Fowler did. In high school I got in a bit of trouble, but Fowler, he was just a Sergeant at the time, he saw something in me. Saw that I could be better. Convinced me to sign up for the academy.” 

“What kind of trouble did you get into?” 

Gavin made a buzzer sound with his mouth “Next.” 

“What? Why?” 

“I am not getting into that with you. Next.” 

[Connor] watched him carefully. He couldn’t see Gavin getting into drugs or a gang or anything. But he obviously had a rough background coming from his attitude and amount of scars that looked too old to be from being a cop. But [Connor] decided to leave it at that. “What's your favorite part of the job?”

“You first.” 

“Why? You didn’t care about my answering the first question.”

“That’s because I already knew the answer.” Gavin teased. “You became a detective because of your daddy. To uphold the family legacy or some shit.”

[Connor] wished he could correct him. But Connor did join in order to keep an eye on his father, and [Connor] was only here because he was told to be and he couldn’t very well say that. So instead he answered the second question. “I like the puzzles. It’s like a constant brain teaser. Keeps my mind sharp.”

Gavin hummed in agreement. “Yeah, that’s my favorite part too.”

[Connor] smiled that they found something in common before going onto his next question. “What’s your greatest accomplishment in life?”

—————

[Connor] and Gavin spent the rest of their patrol questioning each other. Getting to know each other in a way they didn’t before. When Gavin and [Connor] got back from being out on the job it was late, and [Connor] walked in on his father sleeping at his desk. [Connor] sighed. This wasn’t the first time Hank worked himself too hard on a case. [Connor] walked over to his father and shook him awake. “Come on, we’re going home.” 

Hank startled awake and shook his head. “No, I’m fine I was just resting my eyes. I’m ready to get back to work.” 

[Connor] shook his head and started gathering up the papers on the desk. “Nope, come on, Dad, we’re going home.” Hank mumbled disgruntledly as [Connor] finished packing up the papers and [Connor] handed Hank his jacket. “Come on. I’m driving.” 

Hank followed [Connor] out of the precinct and to their car, getting into the passenger side without a fuss. “So tell me about the case.” 

Hank sucked in a breath. “Missing person, double homicide combo. Two little girls were killed, babysitter is missing.”

“You think the babysitter did it?” [Connor] asked.

“No, there’s evidence that she was drugged and taken by the killer. Or killers. I’m starting to think it’s two guys.” 

[Connor] contemplated that for a moment. “Any leads?”

“Babysitter just started talking to an estranged father right before all this happened. Might have been him. But that doesn’t explain who his accomplice is or why they killed the girls she was babysitting.” Hank shook his head. “Cases with kids are always hard.” 

[Connor] nodded solemnly but didn’t comment. Instead he kept driving. Once they got to the house [Connor] parked and got out of the car. Hank opened the house door and was greeted by Sumo who jumped up for pets from him before turning to [Connor] and giving a low growl before sulking away. 

“I do not know what is up with him about you,” Hank commented with his eyebrows knit together. [Connor] moved to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. “Isn’t it a little late for coffee, Con?” 

[Connor] looked at him expectantly before dropping a folding on the kitchen table. “You’re the one who said you wanted to keep working.”

“Is that my case notes?” Hank asked, shocked.

“Better you work on them here where you can go to bed when you’re ready then fall asleep at work again,” [Connor] shrugged. “Besides, here I can help.” 

“You won’t get any credit for helping me. You should just go to bed, kid. I’m shocked you’re not tossing my ass in bed.” Hank raised an eyebrow. 

Maybe Connor would have. Would have made his dad sleep because that’s what a good son would do. But [Connor] wasn’t ready to quit for the day either and Hank’s case seemed interesting. [Connor] sat down at the table and started looking over the case notes. “So walk me through what you know.” 

They sat at the table working together until the early hours of the morning. When Hank finally went to bed [Connor] stayed up. He took the case notes to the living room and sat in front of the TV. He turned it on and found the horror movie Gavin and Tina had been talking about earlier. [Connor] had to admit, his curiosity got the best of him. So with a smile he turned it on and kept one eye on the tv while another eye was on the case notes. 

By the time morning came [Connor] had eaten through an entire bag of candy, finished the movie and put some sticky notes in the case files on leads his dad could follow. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor tells Kara about his plan to escape. [Connor] has a bit of an internal crisis. Then [Connor] celebrates his birthday with Hank

“Now get out of my sight and do your damn job.” The words echoed in Connor’s mind over and over again. Amanda was an impatient woman. That he’d learned. She had no patience for someone to do as they are told. Every command came with an unsaid Now. 

What if Connor could use that to his advantage? If Amanda had told Connor to get out of her sight could he use that as a loophole to escape? Could he use that as permission to leave? All he had to do was trick her into repeating that phrase “Now get out of my sight”. He could do that. Right?

Connor waited. And waited. Every free moment he was either outside working on the garden or near a window. He needed to tell Kara and Alice about his plan. Maybe they could get out too. 

Finally, in between chores, Connor happened to glance outside and saw Kara hanging up laundry. He looked around himself to see if Amanda was nearby and, not seeing her, went outside. He went straight for the fence and tried to catch Kara’s eye. She, however, was focused on her task and didn’t see him. 

Connor looked around himself trying to think of a way to get her attention, then grabbed a small rock and threw it at her feet. The rock hit her calf and she jumped before looking over where Connor was standing. He waved her over frantically. 

Kara looked behind her toward the house before hesitantly going to the fence. “What’s going on?” she asked in a hushed voice. 

“We’re getting out of here,” Connor told her. 

“What?” She didn’t look any less confused.

“We’re going to escape. You, me and Alice.” 

Kara sighed sympathetically. “Connor…”

“I’ve come up with a plan. All we need to do is wait for the right moment and…”

“Connor, stop.” Kara grabbed his hand which he didn’t realize he was waving around while he talked. “We’re not escaping.”

“Of course we are. I came up with a plan and everything.” 

“Connor, I’ve been here since I was nine years old. I’ve tried every escape plan imaginable. It’s never worked.” Kara shook her head. 

“It’s never worked yet,” Connor corrected. “But we’ll work together. Maybe you couldn’t do it alone but you’re not alone anymore, Kara.”

“Connor.” Kara took a deep breath. “I have tried for somewhere around twenty five years to escape from Todd. Todd. A low level fae who is nothing more than an underling. And I never escaped. What makes you think you could escape from an arch Fae like Amanda?” 

“My shining optimism,” Connor said with a grin. Kara was not amused. “Look, Kara, I know this is going to be hard, but we’ve got to try right? You need to get back to the human world, Alice needs to get back to her parents, I need to get out here before…”

Kara’s eyes widened. Then she looked away. “Look, Connor, I’m sorry, but there’s no escaping here.” 

“You haven’t even heard my plan,” Connor complained. 

“Fine.” Kara sighed. “What is your genius plan?”

“Amanda’s going to let me go.”

Kara waited for the punch line but it never came. “What do you mean?”

“Amanda is impatient. Both with me and my changeling. She was yelling at him the other day and she told him to get out of her sight. And that’s when I thought of it. I just need for her to slip up like that with me. If she tells me to get out of her sight then I can use that as a loophole to escape.” 

Kara’s face crumpled. She was actually hoping he had a good plan. Hoping against hope that this stranger had come up with something that she hadn’t already thought of. And that was the plan that was supposedly going to save them? “Wait, so your plan is to what? Annoy her until she lets you go? You have to be kidding.”

Connor was hurt a little by her words. “I plan on using her weakness to my advantage. Her weakness being her impatience.” 

“Connor, it’s not going to work.”

“Well it has to work, Kara!” He snapped. Guilt filled him when Kara flinched at his raised voice, and he lowered it again. “It has to work because I don’t have twenty five years to try to come up with the best plan. As soon as my changeling successfully frames someone for a crime they didn’t commit they’re going to kill me.” 

Kara looked up at him with pity in her eyes. It was a pity he didn’t want. “Connor, I’m sorry but…”

“You know what. Fine. I wanted to help you. I wanted to help so that you and Alice could escape too. But apparently I’m in this alone. I will escape. With or without you.” Connor turned around and headed back into the house, ignoring Kara’s attempts to get him to come back. 

—————

Just before his shift started [Connor] was leaving Gavin’s desk when he saw Gavin coming towards him. “Hey, dipshit,” Gavin greeted with a grin. “Captain wants to see us.”

“Perfect,” [Connor] responded, following Gavin into the captain’s glass office. 

Captain Fowler looked up from his computer and waved the men in. “Come on in.” Gavin and [Connor] sat down across from him as Captain Fowler clasped his hands with his fingers intertwined. “The district attorney is going to charge Cynthia Moore on the Shaolin Being case,” he said, watching them carefully. 

[Connor] schooled his face into a neutral expression but inside he was dancing. That’s all he needed. He’d succeeded. He’d done his job. Now he just has to tell Amanda and then… 

And then what? He succeeded in the one thing he was made to do, which… was great, but now what? Now it was all over. He tells Amanda, Amanda stages his death, replaces his body with the real dead Connor and that’s it. 

But he has done his job. He succeeded in the one thing he was made to do. This was a good thing. It was an end, yes, but a good end. He looked over to Gavin and a strange thought entered his head. He wondered if Gavin would miss him. 

“Good to hear, Captain,” Gavin responded to the captain, but it sounded so far away. 

[Connor] succeeded. He wasn’t needed anymore. So he wouldn’t be around anymore. It was simple. It made sense. But he couldn’t help but wonder how it would affect those around him. 

It would kill Hank. Literally. The man would not survive losing another son without taking his own life. And while at the beginning [Connor] couldn’t have cared less about what happened to the old drunk when he was gone… a part of him felt… guilty? Remorseful? Sad? To think about how much it would hurt him to realize his only remaining son was gone. Even though Connor has been gone for weeks Hank didn’t know that. And it was going to be Connor that Hank missed. Not him. Not [Connor]. Which, again, was fine. [Connor] had done what he came to do.

The Captain started talking again, saying how proud he was of them for solving this case and especially it being [Connor’s] first case. But [Connor] didn’t hear it. 

What about Gavin? Would Gavin miss Connor? Would Gavin miss [Connor]? A part of him realizes that [Connor] would miss Gavin. If the dead miss anyone. Gavin was abrasive and impatient and rude, but [Connor] enjoyed proving himself to him, earning his respect. He enjoyed Gavin’s intelligence and honesty. Humans so often are full of deceit and lies. But Gavin is very Fae like in that he says what he means and he means what he says. If he doesn’t like you then you know it. And if he does that’s an accomplishment. 

Does Gavin like [Connor]?

Gavin stood, breaking [Connor] out of his trance. [Connor] stood as well and so did the Captain. The Captain held out his hand and Gavin and [Connor] shook it. “Congratulations and good luck on the next case. I expect good things from you two.” 

[Connor] nodded and left the office without another word. Once they were out of the office and almost to their desks Gavin grabbed [Connor] to stop him. “Hey, zombie, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?” [Connor] replied curiously. 

“You didn’t say a word that entire meeting. Moore’s getting prosecuted. That’s a good thing, dipshit.” Gavin playfully smacked [Connor] upside the head.

“Yes, it is a good thing,” [Connor] agreed. It was a good thing. He succeeded.

“Then why are you acting so weird?” Gavin asked. That was another thing about Gavin. He was observant. It was probably part of being one of the Old Families. 

Why was he acting so weird? This was fine. This was good… This was good, right? “I… I honestly don’t know.” 

They arrived at their desks and [Connor] sat down, contemplating this. Gavin stared at him for a moment before sitting down himself with a shrug and an, “alright.” That’s when the observant detective noticed the new addition on his desk.

He picked up a small yellow rubber duck with a police uniform and sunglasses on. He huffed out a laugh and asked, “Okay, what is this?” 

[Connor] gave a weak grin, proud of himself for making Gavin smile. “It’s a rubber duck.”

“Yeah, I got that part, but why?”

“Haven’t you ever heard of rubber ducking?” [Connor] teased then quoted, “In computer science when someone is faced with a problem in their program they can’t figure out, they take a rubber duck and explain to the rubber duck every line of code like they are explaining it to an idiot until they figure out the problem,” [Connor] gestured to the small bath toy “There’s your rubber duck.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “That’s what I have you for.”

But you won’t have me for long. [Connor] thought. “I’m not your rubber duck. I’m your partner now,” [Connor] shrugged “You’re going to have to talk with me not at me. You wanna talk at something, talk to your rubber duck.”

Gavin scoffed, looking [Connor] up and down. “Alright,” he nodded “I can respect that.” 

Pride bloomed in [Connor’s] chest. When Gavin respects you it’s an accomplishment. “Good.”

“So since we’re talking to each other and not at each other. I got a question for you for a change,” he said, referring to the game they’d picked up of [Connor] questioning him and getting to know each other. 

“Okay,” [Connor] said curiously, wondering what it would be that Gavin wanted to know. 

“Where do you want to have lunch today?” 

That surprised him. “Are you asking because we’re going to be having lunch together?”

“Unless you rather eat alone with your dad. Tina, Chris and I usually eat together but Tina and Chris had night shifts so they aren’t working today. I thought since you want to get to know me so bad you could get to know me over food.”

“Okay,” [Connor] agreed. “I think I know just the place.”

—————

[Connor] and Gavin ended up going to a small grocery store a few blocks from the precinct. They had a small deli with made-to-order sandwiches. Not that [Connor] had one. While Gavin got himself a meatball sub, [Connor] grabbed an armful of various candy and ate it straight out of the bag. 

Gavin shook his head at [Connor’s] lunch. “Okay. You’ve proved me wrong. Maybe you are just weird.” 

[Connor] shrugged as he enjoyed his Clark bar. “Okay, if you could gain one skill you don’t already have, what would it be?”

“I’d want to be one of those prodigies. Like the insanely smart people who don’t even have to try,” Gavin decided. “What about you?” 

[Connor] laughed. “I’d want to be able to lie. I’m a terrible liar.” It’s kind of impossible for Fae to lie no matter how hard they try. They can mislead, play word games, but they couldn’t outright lie.

“I can totally teach you that,” Gavin offered pointing at him. 

“You can certainly try,” [Connor] said a little smug. “Are you a cat person or a dog person?”

“Cat person. I have a cat named Mia. Best roommate I’ve ever had, and that’s saying something considering I have to clean up her literal shit.”

“You don’t have a good track record with roommates?”

“No, I always end up with psychos.” 

“That’s unfortunate.”

“My turn,” Gavin said “Do you believe in ghosts, aliens or mythical creatures?”

“Why, do you?” [Connor] evaded. 

“I feel like life on other planets most likely exists. But like probably in the form of some unkillable bacteria or something, not like little green men,” Gavin admitted. “Ghosts are a maybe. I haven’t had any experience with them but there’s gotta be something after death, right?” 

“You don’t think heaven or hell are an option?” [Connor] asked. 

“Don’t you think being a ghost on earth is a kind of hell?” Gavin returned. “Seeing the world but unable to be a part of it. Unable to affect it in any real way?”

“I don’t know,” [Connor] admitted. Even if there was a life after death for humans, that didn’t mean there was for changelings. They weren’t technically alive anyway. 

“What do you believe happens after you die?” Gavin asked. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it and came up with an answer I truly believe,” [Connor] told him. “What do you enjoy doing outside of work?”

They continued asking questions through their lunch break, and then even while they were working every once in a while when they thought of it. [Connor] found he was still thinking of questions to ask as he fell asleep that night, and thinking about Gavin’s answers.

—————

[Connor] woke up to the smell of something cooking. At first he thought he might be dreaming. He got out of bed and made his way into the kitchen and there was Hank making pancakes. Okay, definitely dreaming then. According to Connor’s memories Hank hadn’t cooked in years. It was always Connor who made them dinner. Hank’s version of providing meals was bringing home something from the Chicken Feed.

Hank looked behind him and saw [Connor]. “Good morning. Have a seat, I’m making pancakes.” 

[Connor] sat at the kitchen table. “I can see that.” He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. To see a bottle of whiskey on the counter or something. [Connor] and Hank both had the day off because of what day it was. Usually Hank would sleep in till the afternoon and then drink all day. And Connor would spend the day taking care of him. That’s how it was every year. 

What made this year different? Maybe it had something to do with [Connor] confronting him early in his replacing Connor. That would explain a lot of Hank’s changed behavior lately. It wasn’t a very Connor thing to do, Connor was less confrontational, but [Connor] was sick of him being a deadbeat. 

Hank put some pancakes on a plate and set them in front of [Connor]. A fork and knife and a bottle of syrup was already on the table. “Happy Birthday, Connor.” 

It was Connor’s birthday. Which meant it was Cole’s birthday. What in any other family would be a day of celebrating was a day of mourning and grief for them. Every year since Cole’s death it was the same. Even as a child Connor would spend his birthday taking care of his father in all the ways he could at his age. 

Hank put some more pancakes on a second plate and sat down across from [Connor]. “So what do you want to do today to celebrate?” 

“Celebrate?” [Connor] repeated. 

“Yeah, we need to celebrate. What do you want to do? I can buy a cake. We can order pizza and watch a movie. Whatever you want.” 

“Who are you and what have you done with my father?” [Connor] asked, only half joking. He knew how easily it was for someone to be replaced by a doppelgänger. 

Hank laughed. “I know, it’s different than most years, but… you were right. I haven’t been the father I should be for you. I should be here for you more, instead of you always being there for me. I want to change things. Starting with this.”

[Connor] watched Hank carefully as he spoke. “Okay,” he agreed hesitantly. “Let’s celebrate then.” Then he bit his lip. “But there’s one tradition I want to keep. I still want to go see Cole.” 

Hank nodded seriously. “Okay. Then we will.”

—————

[Connor] didn’t know why he wanted to see Cole’s grave on his birthday. He wasn’t actually [Connor’s] brother, but Connor's. All he had was Connor’s memories of him, and even those are hazy with time. He had never met the child himself. But he wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to see Cole today. 

After they ate breakfast and got dressed and ready for the day [Connor] and Hank made their way to the cemetery. When they got to the correct spot [Connor] got out of the car and went over to the grave he knew by heart even though he had never been there himself. He knelt next to the stone and put a hand on the top of it.

He morbidly wondered if Connor would be buried next to his twin. It wouldn’t be long before he’d have to be buried somewhere. Not now that [Connor] had succeeded in framing Cynthia Moore. 

He wondered what would happen to his body. He knew once changelings died that they became a fetch again. What would happen to the fetch? Would Amanda keep it? Throw it away? Burn it? He was upset that he didn’t know. He not only didn’t have any say over what happened to his body after he gives his life to the SeelieCourt, he doesn’t even get to know what happens to it. 

He was made for a purpose and now thathe’s completed it he will be de-animated. That’s the way it was. But he couldn’t help but see it another way. He dedicated his life to do what the Fae and the Seelie Court wanted and now that he's done what they wanted they were going to reward him by killing him. 

He shook his head. He wasn’t getting killed. He wasn’t even really alive. Just a fetch animated by Fae magic. You can’t kill what's never been alive. 

But as he stared at the tomb stone in front of him he wondered… Humans believe in life after death. Some kind of heaven or hell or inbetween. What happens after a changeling dies is de-animated? Nothing? Emptiness? 

He didn’t know. 

Hank put a hand on his shoulder and said, “I miss him too.”

[Connor] took a deep breath. Hank was going to lose his only remaining son. Well, in a way he had already lost him. [Connor] wasn’t his real son. Connor was gone the moment [Connor] replaced him. But Hank didn’t know that. He didn’t know that he wasn’t Connor. Hank didn’t know he wasn’t his son. 

Once they both were dead, [Connor] and Connor, Hank would have nothing. No family, no one to pick him up when he drank too much. No one to stop him from playing Russian roulette when things get too hard. Not only was [Connor] going to lose him when [Connor] died, but he had no doubts that Hank would not survive losing another son. 

[Connor] stood up. He wiped his face with one hand. When had he started crying? He then wordlessly got into the car and waited for Hank to join him and take them home.

—————

The rest of the day was actually kind of nice. Hank did indeed buy a cake and order pizza. They watched a horror flick, to the surprise of Hank. “I didn’t think you were into horror movies.” [Connor] pigs out on candy during the movie. It was small and simple, but still such a drastic difference from the usual. 

A part of [Connor] feels bad that Connor didn’t get to experience it. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor tries to run away

Connor had a plan all he had to do was implement it. He started the day with making Amanda breakfast. Before heading to the kitchen he popped his head into the alchemy lab to ask her “What do you want for breakfast?” 

“Get me the same as usual,” she said waving him away. 

He stepped inside fully. “You usually have muffins but what kind of muffins” 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Chocolate? Blueberry? Cinnamon? Banana? Coffee cake?”

“Chocolate.” 

“Would you like…”

Finally Amanda slammed her hand on the table and said, “Just go cook it  _ now.” _

Connor smiled pleasantly and left the room. Good, he was getting to her. Connor made the breakfast and by the time he was finished Amanda came into the kitchen to eat it. While she was eating he asked her, “What would you like me to do today.” 

“Just clean the house and maintain the garden,” she told him. 

“Do you want me to wash the floors?” 

Her jaw went tight. “Yes, that’s a part of cleaning the house.”

“With a broom or a mop? Or both?” 

“Both.”

“What about the walls, so you want me to wash the walls?” 

“How would you wash the walls?” 

“At home once a year I take a mr clean magic eraser and scrub every inch of every wall. Do you want me to do that? Do you have a mr clean magic eraser.” 

“Forget about the walls!”

“Do you want me too…”

“What I want you to do is  _ stop asking so many questions. _ ”

Connor opened his mouth, trying to find a loophole. She said stop asking  _ so many _ questions, not to stop asking questions at all. “How many is too many?”he asked with a grin. 

“ _ Shut up! _ I don’t want to hear another word from you the rest of the day. Got it?” she snapped

Connor nodded his head and started doing the dishes from breakfast. 

With asking too many questions being such a success he decided to move on to his next plan. Connor started his chores when Amanda came in the room and told him. “I need you to pick up the ingredients in my alchemy lab.” 

Connor smiled and nodded his head wordlessly. He made his way into her alchemy lab and started picking up every out of place ingredient… and kept them in his arms. Once he had an armful of all the ingredients he went back to the living room where Amanda was reading.

She looked up at him and shock ran over her face. “What are you doing?” Connor tried to respond but no sound came out. Amanda rolled her eyes and said, “ _ Answer me. _ ”

“You said to pick up all the ingredients in your alchemy lab,” Connor said innocently. 

“So why are they in your arms then?” Amanda demanded. 

“You didn’t say where to put them down. Just to pick them up.” 

Amanda took a deep breath and then forcibly said, “Pick them up and  _ put them away. _ ”

“Yes, Amanda,” Connor said, turning on his heel to go do as he was told. As if the red walls would ever let him do otherwise. 

An hour later Amanda came in to tell him, “Make sure you put dirty clothes in the washer today.”

Connor smiled at her lack of careful wording. “Yes, Amanda.” He said, then made his way to the laundry hamper, took it to the laundry room, dumped all the laundry in the washer… and left without turning it on. 

While he was at it he started doing his next part of the plan. Entering chaos into the house. He went to the shoe holder and flipped all of her shoes so the right shoe was on the left side, and the left shoe was on the right side. Then he went into her closet and flipped every  _ other _ shirt so that they weren’t going the same direction. 

While she was out doing errands he re-alphabetized all her books to be in the exact opposite order. When he made the bed he made it upside down so that the pillows and blankets were acting like the foot of the bed was the head of the bed. Then he made sure the toilets to both bathrooms had the toilet seat up.

This step required patience as she didn’t notice them all right away. 

It started with the bathroom. Amanda went in there and after a moment Connor heard a sharp cry of shock. Meaning she didn’t notice he left the toilet seat up until she sat down. He grinned to himself in victory.

That night Amanda went to her bedroom for the night and noticed her bed being made wrong. She yelled out. “Connor, make my bed the correct way from now on.”

“The correct way?” Connor asked.

“The pillows go to the head of the bed, the comforter so it’s right side up when you look at the foot of the bed and the blanket folded at the foot of the bed,” she clarified. 

“Of course. Yes, Amanda,” he said. 

The next morning when Amanda woke up she noticed the clothes in the closet. “ _ Connor! _ ” Connor came into the room and she threw a shirt in his face. “ _ Fix these  _ so that they are all facing  _ the same way.”  _

“Yes, Amanda,” he answered

When she went to put on her shoes for the day she snapped at Connor, “Fix my shoes so the right is on the right side and left is on the left side!”

When she went into the alchemy lab for the day she made it an hour before noticing that he books weren’t alphabetized. “ _ Connor! What _ have you  _ done  _ to my  _ books?!”  _

“I re-alphabetized them,” Connor said helpfully. 

“These are not alphabetized!” 

“Yes, they are. From Z to A,” Connor countered. 

Amanda was basically frothing at the mouth at that. “Put them back to the way they were. Alphabetical order.  _ A to Z. _ ”

“Of course, Amanda, how silly of me.”

She didn’t notice the laundry until the next day when she asked, “Where are the clothes you put in the wash yesterday?”

“Still there,” Connor answered simply. 

“You didn’t do the laundry?” 

“You just said to put them in the washing machine. You didn’t say to turn it on, or switch it to the dryer, or turn the dryer on, or fold them, or put them away…”

She grumbled to herself then said, “This time do all that. And I don’t want to see your face until it’s done!” 

“Yes, Amanda,” he said with a grin. Then he left the room, went to the laundry room, and with his new permission to make sure she didn’t see his face, he snuck out the laundry room window. To the outside. 

—————

Once he was outside the house it took everything in him to keep cool, pretend like he’s doing a task for Amanda,  _ walk _ but with a purpose. Everything in him was screaming at him to run. Even once Connor was out (out of the house, out of the yard, out of sight of the house) he still was paranoid, constantly looking over his shoulder despite himself. He walked, looking for anything that could possibly bring him back home, for hours.

The problem was, he didn’t know where to go. How was he to get back home? For supposedly being such a smart guy, he didn’t think this one through. He felt like a little kid running away from home with nothing but the clothes on his back. He  _ didn’t  _ have anything but clothes on his back. He had just been so desperate to get out, get away, save his own skin, he  _ had  _ to do  _ something; _ and this was all he could think of. He was like a trapped animal that gnawed off his leg to get away from the hunter, only to die from infection. 

With the Feywild always in perpetual twilight Connor had no idea what time it was or how long he had been walking. When he felt like he couldn’t walk anymore he stopped looking for an exit and instead started looking for a place he could hole up and sleep for a few hours. It felt like forever before he found a broken and seemingly empty house, fused into a giant tree, hell, maybe even made  _ out of  _ the tree with moss covering most of the house itself. 

Connor checked that no one was following him, then made his way to the house, looking through the windows to see if anyone was inside. The house was definitely abandoned; empty except a few broken pieces of furniture. 

Connor tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. He opened the door and walked in hesitantly. His police training prompted him to make a sweep of the house before even thinking of letting his guard down. He checked the living room and kitchen first, and almost made it to the dining room when a figure came out from behind the wall. The figure grabbed him and pinned him to the other side of that wall. A knife was held against Connors throat. 

“A visitor? Ralph doesn’t like visitors. They’re nasty. They may hurt Ralph,” the man said in a shaky voice. He had blonde hair and a huge gash taking up one side of his face, not entirely fresh but also not healed enough to be called a scar.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Connor said with his hands in the air. 

“Visitors are dangerous. Look what they did to Ralph.” He moved his head to give Connor a good look. The wound was gaping and black. Parts of his skin were peeled off and debriding, some just hanging there, already dead. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Connor repeated. “Why don’t you put the knife down and we can talk about this?”

Ralph hesitantly and slowly moved the knife away then took a step back. Connor immediately took a breath of relief and his hand went instinctively to his neck. 

“You must excuse Ralph... Ralph still finds it difficult to control himself... Sometimes his fear makes him do things he regrets... Ralph has seen some hard times... He's just so scared those… those  _ Fae... _ will get him again... You can stay if you want... Ralph won't hurt you…”

Connor looked Ralph up and down. He was wearing a tarp, draped over him like a cape. Under it was simple clothes: a muddy and blood smeared white t-shirt with s. ns. “I only need to stay the night. One night.” 

Ralph literally jumped for joy at that, making Connor jump as Ralph clapped his hands once then waved Connor in with huge gestures. “Come on! Come! Come! Come on! This way! Ralph has lived here since he ran away... Ralph never goes outside, so no one knows he lives here... Come on! You can make yourself at home here.” He winced as if the excited talking only exasperated his wound. 

“Who are you? How long have you been here?” Connor asked carefully. 

“Silly Ralph. Ralph didn’t introduce himself. Who are you?” Ralph looked at him expectantly. 

“I’m Connor.”

“Sit down! Sit down!” Ralph gestured to a broken wooden tv stand. Connor tentatively sat down, watching Ralph’s every meal. 

“Ralph will cook! To make up for past misunderstandings…” Ralph decided.

“No, Ralph, you really don’t have to do...” Connor said, raising a hand. 

“We will eat together. Like friends. Like family,” Ralph said forcibly. He then turned and went out of the room, into the kitchen where Connor very much doubted there was any edible food. Something about Ralph didn’t feel right. It felt wrong. Unhinged. 

There was no way Connor was going to be able to sleep with him here tonight. 

Connor took a steadying breath and stood up. He figured if he was quiet enough he could slip out of the house through the back without Ralph knowing until he was already gone. Connor made his way carefully to the next room, keeping out of sight of the kitchen and slowly opened the door. 

Connor only got one foot in when he saw it was a bathroom, and he almost left but something felt… off. He took a step inside and once fully inside he noticed the dead body in the bathtub. He slowly approached it, listening for the sounds of Ralph in the kitchen, and upon closer inspection of the body found it to be Ralph. 

Before Connor could even register what was happening he heard a voice behind him. “He tried to leave too.”

Connor jumped back, looking between Ralph and the body that looked exactly like him, down to the gash in his face and the tarp around his shoulders. “Ralph… what’s going on?”

“Ralph didn't mean any harm... No...it's just that... Ralph can't control his anger... When his anger comes, Ralph doesn't know what he's doing... he... he becomes stupid...full of hatred... Ralph is sorry... He just wanted to be your friend.”

“Ralph, you need to let me go.”

“No!” Ralph held out the knife again. “No, you’re not going to leave. Not until Ralph says so.” Ralph circled around Connor, the knife still pointed at him. “Why do you want to leave Ralph? Weren’t you having fun? You and Ralph can play games. I’m sure you like games.”

A sinister smile crossed his lips, cracking the wound on his cheek and causing it to bleed again. “I know what games you would like. We could count rice. Or work on our penmanship. Or water the garden.”

All Connor could feel was complete shock when the form of Ralph morphed into that of Amanda. Connor bolted for the door but then with a simple, “Stop.” He wasn’t able to move a muscle. Amanda walked around his frozen frame to face him and pouted, “What’s wrong Connor? Weren’t you having fun with me?” Then she grinned “Don’t worry. I know exactly what we could do to entertain you.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Connor], Gavin, Tina and Chris celebrate the closed case.

[Connor] was sitting at his desk, finishing up the reports on the Shaolin Being case when a hand smacked the desk in front of him. He jumped slightly, looking up to see Gavin smiling. “Hey, Dipshit, Tina and Chris and I are going to my place to celebrate. Want to join?” 

[Connor] gave him a puzzled look. “Celebrate?” he asked. 

“Yeah, celebrate. It’s when you have fun because something good happened.” Gavin rolled his eyes. 

“What are we celebrating?” [Connor] asked. 

“That we closed the case, of course!” Gavin told him like it was obvious. “If you don’t want to come that’s fine but I thought you might want to spend some time with someone other than your dad.”

[Connor] looked over to where Hank was sitting at his desk. He could tell from the look on Hank’s face and the papers scattered around that he would probably be there till late. [Connor] looked back to Gavin and said, “Alright. Let’s go.” 

Gavin clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s go.” Gavin echoed.

[Connor] followed Gavin to his car, opting to sit in the back as Tina rushed to take shotgun. Chris followed suit, leaving space in the back between [Connor] and himself. By the casual manner in which he sat, [Connor] figured this must have been some sort of courtesy rather than an attempt to put physical distance between them.

“Okay, music! I say we--“

“Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts their cakehole!” Gavin shot back. Tina pouted in annoyance, at least until Gavin hooked up his phone to the auxiliary. 

Gavin grinned mischievously as the opening lines played. “ _ We're no strangers to love _

_ You know the rules and so do I _

_ A full commitment's what I'm thinking of _

_ You wouldn't get this from any other guy” _

Tina moaned. “Are you serious?”

“ _ I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling _

_ Gotta make you understand _

_ Never gonna give you up _

_ Never gonna let you down _

_ Never gonna run around and desert you _

_ Never gonna make you cry _

_ Never gonna say goodbye _

_ Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you” _

Chris rolled his eyes. “Did you seriously exert your authority as a driver just to rickroll the car?”

“I wanted to introduce the stiff to some actual culture. We all know Hank’s got no taste, and it’s not like Connor would seek out anything good on his own,” he teased, then changed the song. Gavin put on some rock music, and [Connor] found he actually enjoyed it. 

“What is this song?” [Connor] asked. 

“Identity by Azar-Wrath,” Gavin told him “Why? Don’t you like it?”

“I actually do.” 

Gavin looked at him through the rear view mirror, mildly surprised. “I always thought you’d be into quieter music. Stuff with lots of piano or some shit.” 

It was true that  _ Connor _ would, but [Connor] found he actually liked this.

“I’m not so one-dimensional,  _ Gavin, _ ” [Connor] told him. 

“Guess not.”

[Connor] was surprised to find that they’d only gone through four and a half songs before they’d arrived at Gavin’s house. He hadn’t expected his--well, Connor’s-- new partner to live so close to the precinct.

Hesitating for a moment to take in the outward appearance of Gavin’s apartment, surprisingly well-kept for what [Connor] would have expected of the man, he was the last of the four to leave the vehicle, quickening his strides to reach the doorway as Chris lingered to hold the door for him.

“Thanks,” [Connor] said.

“No problem,” Chris offered.

“So what are we doing to celebrate exactly?” [Connor] asked.

Tina rolled her eye.. “Human sacrifices. What do you think? We’re playing board games!” 

“Cards Against Humanity to be exact,” Chris added.

“Tina I know you want lemonade with vodka, do you two want a beer?” Gavin asked from the kitchen, gesturing to Connor and Chris.

“One, sure,” Chris agreed.

[Connor] smiled. He had never tasted alcohol. Only had  _ Connor’s _ memories of it and he had very little at that.  _ Connor _ avoided it like the plague after seeing what it did to his father. “Sure,” [Connor] agreed.

Gavin opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles of yuengling and passed them to Chris who passed one to [Connor]. [Connor] opened it and took a taste. It was much like he expected, not very tasty but then again people didn’t drink beer for the taste.

He didn’t wish to become inebriated, though, so after the cautious first sip, he set the bottle aside. He’d nurse it slowly throughout the evening. A single beer would be fine.

Tina helped herself to Gavin’s pantry, preparing her own drink as Gavin left the room, returning with a small black box labeled in white text.

Opening the box, Gavin began to deal cards, all but tossing them at each player. “So, seven white cards all around... T, Chris, Dipshit... And the black card is.... Dear Abby, I’m having some trouble with  _ blank _ and would like your advice.”

[Connor] looked down at his cards and then to each of the players. Tina was smiling like the Cheshire Cat as she put her card down, then slowly Chris did too. [Connor] looked to Gavin for a moment more, considering his sense of humor. 

It’s not like Gavin told [Connor] a lot of jokes on the job. The only time he ever heard him laugh was in  _ Connor’s _ memories, when Gavin had punched him. But [Connor] did know he probably would enjoy most what would be deprecating to others. He liked to laugh  _ at  _ people.

[Connor] put down his cards and Gavin picked them up and shuffled them before reading “Dear Abby, I’m having some trouble with  _ being rich  _ and would like your advice.” He set that card to the side.

“Dear Abby, I’m having some trouble with  _ teaching a robot to love _ and would like your advice.” Gavin set down that card as well.

“Dear Abby, I'm having some trouble with  _ the clitioris  _ and would like your advice.” Gavin smiled at that one. “Okay that one definitely wins. [Connor] grinned as he picked up the black card from the middle of the table.

“Oh, really?” Tina laughed, giving [Connor] an appraising look.

“Damn, shit. Alright, go ahead and take it. It’s your turn,” Gavin said, leaning back on the couch. 

[Connor] picked up a black card off the deck and read aloud, “Blank, betcha can’t have just one.”

He watched each of the other players carefully. Gavin smiled to himself as he put a card down. Chris seemed to consider his cards carefully, while Tina was very obviously stuck between two before turning to Chris and saying, “Left or right?”

“Right,” Chris answered easily.

Then Tina put down her card and [Connor] gathered them up. “ _ Daddy Issues.  _ Betcha can’t have just one.” He set down the card then looked at the three of them Tina grinned at that one, while Gavin nodded his head. 

“ _ Gloryholes _ . Betcha can’t have just one.” He read the next card and put it down. Chris looked uncomfortable at the very thought. 

“ _ IPhone dick pics _ . Betcha can’t have just on,.” [Connor] finished with the last card, setting it down. He watched Chris the most. He didn’t show any signs of finding that one funny either. Meaning that the first card was probably his. Also meaning that he was probably not very good at this game. He would be the safest choice to give a point to. “Daddy Issues wins.” Chris smiled and picked up the black card. 

“You know all about Daddy Issues, don’t you Connor?” Gavin said with a sip of his beer, evaluating [Connor’s] response. 

He knew what he should do.  _ Connor _ would be offended. Defend himself and Hank. But [Connor] knew Gavin. This was a test. To feel out his sense of humor. Was [Connor] someone who could take a joke? “Don't hate me just because I  _ have  _ a dad.” [Connor] shot back. 

Chris and Tina laughed, and even Gavin gave an approving smile. Then Chris grabbed another black card and said, “Okay, okay, okay. Next round. ‘During sex, I like to think about  _ blank _ .”

Tina within a second had her card down. [Connor] followed in suit with what he deemed the most PG card that fit. Gavin set down his as well.

“During sex, I like to think about  _ a mime having a stroke. _ ” He turned toward Tina who was biting her lip. “Are you serious, Tina?” 

“You don’t know that that’s me!” Tina protested.

“The hell I don’t,” he countered but moved on to the next card. “During sex, I like to think about  _ sexy pillow fights _ .” He set that one down with a nod. “During sex, I like to think about  _ Daddy’s belt. _ ” He didn’t even consider it before saying, “Pillow fights it is.”

Gavin grinned victoriously as he swiped the card. “Tina. Your turn.” 

Tina picked up her card and commented, “Oh this is fitting,” before reading, “In it’s new tourism campaign, Detroit proudly proclaims that it has finally eliminated  _ blank. _ ” 

Coming from Chris’ response to the last hand, [Connor] surmised that Tina was a chaotic player. He put his card down and watched as Chris and Gavin did as well, Gavin looking proud of himself. 

Tina picked up the cards and read, “In it’s new tourism campaign, Detroit proudly proclaims that it has finally eliminated  _ hope. _ Ain’t that the truth.” 

She looked at the next card, “In it’s new tourism campaign, Detroit proudly proclaims that it has finally eliminated  _ Child Protective Services.”  _ She visibly laughed at that one, ending on a big sigh.

“And In it’s new tourism campaign, Detroit proudly proclaims that it has finally eliminated  _ crippling debt.  _ As if.” She lifted the card, “CPS wins.” 

[Connor] happily took the card from her hand with a, “Thank you very much.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and picked the next card. They played for a good hour, exchanging jokes and good natured insults. It was easy. [Connor] fit in with them. He didn’t feel like an outsider infringing on their game night, he felt like a part of the group. Tina even invited [Connor] to join them all when they go see Azar-wrath’s concert in a couple months since he liked their song in the car. 

When it finally got down to the last rounds of the game it was between Gavin and [Connor], and Gavin was the card tsar. 

All Gavin had to do was not pick [Connor’s] card and he had a chance of winning. “In one thousand years, when paper money is but a distant memory,  _ blank _ will be our currency.”

[Connor] knew Gavin was competitive. He wanted to win this. And because of that he wasn’t going to pick which card he thought was funniest, he was going to pick the card that he didn’t think was [Connor’s]. So all [Connor] had to do was convince Gavin that his card was someone else’s. He looked between Tina and Chris and decided. Tina. He would have to out-Tina Tina. 

Everyone put their cards down and Gavin read seriously, “In one thousand years, when paper money is but a distant memory,  _ yeast _ will be our currency.”

He looked at each of them, then continued, “In one thousand years, when paper money is but a distant memory,  _ chunks of dead prostitute _ will be our currency.”

Again, he watched them all carefully. “In one thousand years, when paper money is but a distant memory,  _ tentacle porn  _ will be our currency.” 

Gavin looked at the cards and considered them before finally picking, “Prostitutes.”

[Connor] laughed victoriously, “I am the winner!” 

“This is totally unfair. I should have won,” Gavin complained loudly. 

“Don’t be a sore loser, Gavin,” Chris said with an eye roll.

“No, I will be. I  _ know  _ you guys. I know what you pick  _ from _ others, I know what you pick  _ for _ others.” He points to Chris. “Chris tries to pick the cards that make the most sense grammatically and purposely doesn’t play the more risque cards.” Then he turned to Tina. “Tina always picks something completely random that makes no sense with the card.” Then he looked at [Connor]. “And I’m a pretty good judge of what I think people would pick. And I would have pegged you as the one that makes the most sense, but you totally didn’t.”

Gavin wasn’t wrong. That was how Tina and Chris played their cards. And even how  _ Connor _ would play his cards. But [Connor] had messed up. He got so caught up in winning the game that he forgot to play his role.  _ Connor  _ would have picked what he thought was funny and put very little strategy into it.  _ Connor  _ wouldn’t have cared about winning. 

But [Connor] was surprised to find that  _ he  _ did. As a changeling he had a good sense of people. Of who they are. What they would do. So when he was the card tsar he didn’t pick what card he liked best, he knew from the cards who picked what and he picked who had the least amount of cards so he had a better chance at winning. And when he wasn’t the card tsar he didn’t pick what  _ he  _ thought was funny, he picked what he knew the other would like. 

Realizing this, he went silent as Tina, Chris and Gavin bickered. He was deviating from the plan. He was doing exactly what he wasn’t supposed to be doing. He wasn't doing what  _ Connor  _ would do.

Fuck  _ Connor _ .  _ Connor _ didn’t know what he was missing.  _ Connor _ was in the Feywild.  _ He _ was Connor now. 

But as he sat there with his thoughts, his mind went to a dark place. Were these his real friends? Were they really? They were  _ Connor’s _ friends and they think he’s him. But they didn’t know who he really was. If they did they would probably hate him for deceiving them. Making them think he’s  _ Connor _ . 

Well he is Connor. He’s only ever been Connor. Never had an identity outside of Connor. He has all of Connor’s memories, he shared Connor’s looks. Of course, he is Connor. He’s just not  _ their _ Connor. 

Was it asking too much that he wanted to be  _ their _ Connor? He wanted to be the real Connor. The only Connor. To not have to think about what  _ Connor _ would do and be himself. Do what  _ he _ wants. 

As he sat there he realized; that would never happen. He would always be Fake Connor. Not Connor. Changeling Connor. Something different. Something other. Something false. 

“Earth the Connor.” Tina flicked him on the nose and he was pulled out of his train of thought. “We said your name like four times. You with us?” 

“I’m here,” he said, knowing very well he couldn’t say  _ I’m fine.  _

“We want to go to Waffle House. Come on, we’re taking an automated taxi,” Tina continued. 

He was half tempted to just go home. He wasn’t sure if he wanted this anymore. To continue to pretend. To continue to fool people who he likes but will never like  _ him _ . Only who they think he is. But as he looked over at Gavin, he realized he was eyeing him suspiciously. So he smiled the best he could and said, “Well, let’s go then.”

—————

After the Waffle House it was two am before [Connor] got home. He quietly opened the door, only to find the lights already on. [Connor] braced himself and came inside. 

Hank was sitting in his chair, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. When [Connor] came in, Hank stood up, walked across the room and pulled [Connor] into a hug. [Connor] froze in surprise. 

Hank pulled away and looked [Connor] in the eyes. “Where were you? I’ve been worried sick. I thought something happened to you. It’s fucking two am Connor!” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect to be out so late.” 

“Why didn’t you call me? Or text or something? Where even were you?” Hank asked.

“I was spending time with Gavin, Tina and Chris.”

That surprised Hank. “Gavin? I’m shocked you’re spending more time with him then you absolutely have to for work.”

[Connor] couldn’t help but wonder, would  _ Connor _ ? Would  _ Connor  _ have gone out with Gavin, Tina and Chris? He didn’t know anymore. He just knew what  _ he  _ wanted to do. “Things have been going much better lately. We’re… getting along… as much as anyone can get along with Gavin. We were celebrating a breakthrough in our case.”

Hank looked at [Connor] suspiciously. [Connor] had to focus on not squirming under the scrutiny. “Connor, you’re a good kid. I know you want to be friends with everyone and want everyone to like you. But I want you to be careful with him. I don’t trust him. Not after how he’s treated you in the past.” He then smacked Connor upside the head, without malice. “And next time tell me you’re going out. Send a text, a call, anything. Don’t worry your old dad like that.”

“I can do that,” [Connor] agreed. 

With that Hank mumbled to himself something about  _ rotten kids _ and stumbled into his bedroom, setting the whiskey bottle on the kitchen table on his way. 

While not exactly a parental figure all he could think about is Amanda and her potential reaction. First of all, Amanda wouldn’t have been worried  _ for him. _ She might be worried about the mission, worried about him messing it up, but as long as the mission was going as planned she would never care about him. 

And even if she was worried, about him or the mission, [Connor] couldn’t imagine her first response being to  _ hug _ him. He can’t imagine her hugging at all. He’s seen what happens when someone disobeys her or gets on her bad side. It certainly wasn’t hugging. 

[Connor] couldn’t help but wish it was real. That Hank was worried about  _ him _ and not his “real” son. [Connor] wished he had someone who would be worried about  _ him.  _ Who would care if  _ he  _ didn’t come home when he was supposed to. But all he had was pretending to be  _ Connor _ and wishing it was enough.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor gets punished for running away. [Connor] Gavin and Hank go on a drug raid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is hands down my favorite chapter. I basically wrote this whole fic just to write this chapter. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Connor was waiting for the blow up. For Amanda to turn on him. For her to yell, scream, maybe even hit him. They went home in silence. She gave the command for him to follow her and then hadn’t said another word since. When they finally arrived at him Amanda said in an even tone. “Sit down.” 

He did. He sat on the couch and looked up at her, waiting for his punishment. Waiting for her to exact her revenge on him for running away. She left the room and Connor wondered what his punishment would be. His everyday tasks were torture already, how much worse would it be when she was actually mad at him?

Amanda came back with something in her hand covered in a cloth. She sat across the coffee table from him and put the cloth covered item on the table. She looked him in the eye as she uncovered it. 

It was a revolver. 

She picked up the revolver and opened it, dropping out all six of the bullets. She carefully placed five on the coffee table, then took the sixth and put it back in the gun. She spun the chamber and placed the gun back on the table. 

“We’re going to play a little game. You know Russian Roulette don’t you, Connor?” Amanda said with no emotion in her voice. 

Connor nodded, not taking his eyes off the gun. He knew it. He’d had to pull a revolver out of his father’s hands enough to have a very intimate knowledge of the game. 

“I’m going to ask you a question. Every time you lie to me you will put the gun to your head and pull the trigger. Do you understand?” 

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why not just force me to tell the truth?” 

“I’m going to give you a choice, Connor. That’s what you want isn’t it? That’s why you ran away? You wanted a  _ choice?  _ You wanted  _ freedom? _ ” Amanda said tauntingly. When Connor didn’t say anything she pressed. “Answer me, Connor.”

“Yes,” Connor spat out, no matter how hard he tried not to answer. “Yes, I wanted my freedom back.”

“Now why would you want that? Why would you want to go home? Home isn’t exactly much better than here, is it? Do you really have that much freedom there?” She cocked an eyebrow. “At home you’re just as trapped. Only you’re trapped under the need to take care of your father. Everything about your life at home is about your father. Taking care of him while he’s drunk, stopping him when he’s suicidal, you even got a job with him so you could keep an eye on him, didn’t you?” Amanda waited for an answer. “Didn’t you, Connor? Did you or did you not get a job at the precinct to keep an eye on your father?” 

Connor glared at her. “Yes,” he admitted. 

“Your whole career is about your father. You don’t even have any friends because you’re too busy taking care of him to have any time to yourself.” 

“How do you know this?” 

Amanda laughed humorlessly. “I know everything about you, Connor. I had to in order to make a good copy of you.” She cocked her head to the side. “Do you resent him? Your father. Do you resent him for what your life has turned into? Do you resent him because you have to take care of him and it’s taken over your life?”

Without thinking he said. “No.” Then his hand without his permission grabbed the gun, held it to his head and pulled the trigger before he could even process what was going on. The second the gun went  _ click _ he threw it on the table, trying to get it away from him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Amanda chastised. “You better think before you lie to me again, Connor. Watch your words carefully.” 

Connor was breathing heavily, still processing the fact that he had just pulled the trigger of a gun with it next to his head. “You can’t do this,” he said between breaths. “You were keeping me alive for a reason.”

“You’re right. I was. My changeling only has your memories while you’re still alive. But you see, he’s framed a woman for stealing Shaolin Being’s body. They have their culprit. He’s done his job. I could easily have you just kill yourself and then drop your body down the river and it would all be fine. My changeling has accomplished his task. I have no reason for you anymore.”

Connor’s eyes went wide. No. No that couldn’t be true. Not already. “So what are you going to do with me?” 

“I’ll keep you around as my play thing until I get bored of you. Then one way or another you’ll end up back home, dead. And everything will go back to the way it was,” she said simply.

“You can’t do that!” Connor protested. 

“And why not?” Amanda asked mockingly. “I can do whatever I want,” she reminded him. “Are you afraid, Connor?” 

Connor glared at her, not answering. 

“Answer when I ask you a question,” she demanded. 

“ _ Yes _ .” The word came out despite himself. 

Amanda chuckled. “Afraid of what I wonder? Are you afraid of death? What lies beyond? Or are you more afraid of what happens to your father when you aren’t there to take care of him anymore? Tell me, what exactly do you think will happen when your father loses the only son he has left?” 

“My father is stronger than you give him credit for,” he asserted. 

“But is he strong enough to survive losing both his sons? Losing his wife? Losing his whole family and being all alone?” Amanda grinned wickedly “Do you really think he’s strong enough to survive that?” 

“ _ Yes _ .” The second he said the word the red walls went up and no matter how much he fought against it he couldn’t stop his hand from grabbing the gun, putting it to his head and pulling the trigger. 

_ Click. _

“I didn’t think so,” Amanda gloated. 

“What do you get out of this? Why are you doing this?” Connor demanded.

“One simple reason, Connor. Because it’s fun.” 

Connor looked between the gun and Amanda before making a split second decision, grabbing the gun, pointing it at Amanda and firing.

_ Click. _

_ Click. _

_ Click. _

_ Click. _

It was empty. 

There was never a bullet in the gun. Amanda shook her head, looking unsurprised but nevertheless disappointed. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve ruined all my fun. Whatever am I going to do with you now?”

—————

Maybe staying up late with Gavin, Tina and Chris wasn’t such a good idea. [Connor] was exhausted the next day. Absolutely dragging his feet. Luckily for both [Connor] and Gavin, it was an easy day. They didn’t have any major cases, just an open and shut case, and now they were helping Hank out with a bust that was most likely going to have at least seven arrests if they caught all the perps. 

[Connor] and Gavin stood on either side of a long hallway. Two other detectives were taking the fire escape with another one on the roof and the last on the main floor. Hank was at the front door of the apartment and held up his hand to cue [Connor] and Gavin. 

Three.

Two.

One. 

Hank kicked down the door and yelled, “Detroit police! Put your hands up!” The people inside scattered. One going for the window, another running towards another room. Two put their hands up and were already moving toward the ground. One just stood there completely in shock. The last one, she bolted forward and rammed into Hank, trying to knock him out of the doorway and run past him. 

She almost gets past Hank but [Connor] and Gavin were behind him so [Connor] grabbed her by the arm, to which she whipped around fighting tooth and nail against him. Using some of  _ Connor’s  _ training [Connor] was able to pin her to the wall and already had one cuff on one of her wrists. 

Then there was a gunshot. 

[Connor’s] heart dropped. He completely forgot about the woman he had pinned to the wall and turned full body towards the sound. What if the bullet got Hank… or Gavin? 

He didn’t even get to see who, if anyone, got hit before the woman he had against the wall pushed him and tried to run again. [Connor] froze for half a second before chasing after her. He grabbed the back of her shirt at the collar and she whipped around, her handcuffed hand lashed out, the free handcuff catching [Connor] in the face. His vision went black for a moment and he felt hot blood roll down his face as she got away. 

She wouldn’t get far. That’s what the detective at the main floor exit was for. The moment [Connor] vision came back he turned toward the apartment and looked inside. Two men were kneeling on the ground getting handcuffed by Gavin. Hank was at the doorway to a bathroom with a woman pushed up against the door. A gun was on the floor a few feet away from them. 

“Is everyone alright?” [Connor] demanded. 

“What are you doing, where's the perp you were on?” Gavin demanded. 

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Hank asked. [Connor] held up a hand to his temple. It came away bloody. Just feeling it he probably had a long nasty gash on his forehead to cheek. 

They were okay. Hank and Gavin were okay. Neither was hurt. Everyone was okay. Why was this so distracting? Why couldn’t [Connor] focus on doing his job? Arresting his perp? When did he start caring so much about these people? 

Gavin pulled him away from his thoughts. “Hey dipshit, either go arrest somebody or go get seen by a medic. Don't just stand there with your thumb up your ass.” 

[Connor] nodded and turned back towards the hallway to jog down the stairs to make sure his perp got caught by the detective downstairs. 

—————

Once all seven of the perps were caught and arrested they all headed back to the precinct. Before getting in the car Gavin took [Connor] aside. He grabbed [Connor] by the face and moved his chin to get a better look at the cut. 

“You’ll be fine. Head wounds bleed a lot. You probably don’t even need stitches,” he said before he dropped his hand and got into the driver’s side of the car. 

“Thanks,” [Connor] said lamely. 

It was a quiet ride back with two perps in the back seat, one of them being the woman who hit Connor with the cuffs. Once they got to the precinct and Gavin was taking the two perps to the holding cells Hank’s voice snapped through the air. “ _ Connor.” _

[Connor] looked behind him to see his father seething mad walking toward him. “What the shit was that?” he demanded. 

“What the shit was…”

“You let a perp get the upper hand on you, get your face all fucked up, and then just  _ let her go  _ so you can go back to the room where two officers already have everything handled?”

“I heard a gunshot and…” [Connor] looked over to where Gavin was coming back from the holding cell, looking for help from him. He didn’t get any. 

“I don’t care if you heard an elephant trumpeting! When you have a perp in custody your  _ full attention  _ is on them so that shit like this doesn’t happen! What if she had gotten away?”

“She didn’t…”

“What if you had gotten hurt, Cole? What the fuck were you thinking?!” 

[Connor’s] heart dropped as soon as he heard the name. He didn’t know why. It didn’t make sense. Why should it matter if Hank accidentally calls him Cole? Hank already thinks [Connor] is someone he’s not. Hank thinks he’s  _ Connor _ when he’s not. 

Maybe it was some sympathy for  _ Connor _ . That he felt for  _ Connor _ because he knew how he would feel if it was him. Knew how  _ he  _ felt about being called someone else. 

Because the truth is Hank never wanted [Connor]. He never even wanted _Connor._ He wanted Cole. It would always be Cole. The child he lost. The child he could never have. Somehow losing his child at age six made the boy into an image of a perfect child that no living child could ever achieve. Try as _Connor_ might he’ll never be Cole. Even Cole could never be what Hank thought he was if he was alive. 

Yet the only thing Hank loved about  _ Connor  _ was that he looked like Cole. The Cole Hank thought he was. And [Connor] couldn’t help but empathize with him. Because the only thing Hank loved about [Connor] was that he looked like  _ Connor. _

And [Connor] was struck again, just like at Gavin’s, with the fact that these people that were nice to [Connor]. These people that [Connor] genuinely liked, they would never like him. They want  _ Connor _ . They only want  _ Connor. _ Everyone only wants  _ Connor.  _

And [Connor] is reminded of what Gavin said the first time he met him. When he said he felt like a consolation prize. And he empathized not only with  _ Connor _ , but now with Gavin. 

[Connor] backed away and left Hank where he was. “Connor, wait” Hank called after him, but he ignored him and kept walking. 

Gavin turned to Hank and said, “I got this,” and followed him. 

[Connor] walked out of the building. He needed air. He needed room to  _ breathe.  _ Once out of the building Gavin grabbed his arm to stop him. “Connor…”

“Go back inside, Gavin,” [Connor] shook his head. 

“Connor, he didn’t mean it.”

“Of course he didn’t mean it!” [Connor] snapped. “He’d never say it to my face, he wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings. But that doesn’t make it less true.” 

“Say what to your face?” Gavin said hesitantly. 

“He doesn’t want me. He wants  _ him _ . He only wants  _ him _ . It will always be  _ him _ .” [Connor] sat on the steps of the building. “I never hated him more than when he was gone. How messed up is that? But I hate him. I hate everything about him. Because my dad only wants him. Not me.”

Gavin listened quietly, waiting a moment to make sure [Connor] was done talking before he did anything. “I don’t think he actually loves Cole more than you. Let me finish before you jump down my throat!” he said quickly. “I think he loves the  _ idea  _ of Cole. Who Cole could have been. You could never live up to that and neither could Cole if he was alive because it’s impossible. Because Cole’s dead, and because he died so young, he’s become some image of a perfect child that no one could ever actually be. Hank misses someone who doesn’t exist. Who never did. And that’s not fair to you because you’re left trying to live up to this perfect image of your dead brother.” 

[Connor] considered that for a moment. That might have made  _ Connor _ feel better, to know Hank wants a son that never existed, but it didn’t make  _ him _ feel any better. Because Connor was very much real and very much alive and very much the one everyone wanted. “I just want him to want me as much as he wants him,” he admitted. Gavin would hear that he wanted Hank to want Connor as much as Cole, but what he meant in his heart of hearts was that he wanted Hank to want [Connor] as much as  _ Connor. _

“I know you do. I don’t blame you. It’s shitty of him to not see that it’s hurting you,” Gavin told him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

[Connor] sighed. “I can’t really blame him either,” he admitted. Who was he? Some inhuman freak who helped kidnap Hank’s real son and tried to take his place. All just to screw up an ongoing investigation. He  _ should _ want his own son more. He should hate him. And he would if he ever knew. 

“Well, I sure as fuck can,” Gavin scoffed. 

“Gavin.” 

“What? You take care of that drunken fool all the time. You have no personal life because your life revolves around him and making him happy. I bet you even became a detective just to try to make him proud. And he still treats you like this? It’s fucking shitty.” 

“He’s still my dad.” And it was true. [Connor] already thought of him as his dad. When did that happen?

“And dads can be shitty people. They aren’t exempt just because they’re family,” Gavin shook his head. 

“Okay, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if it’s right or wrong for my dad to want him more. I still want him to want  _ me. _ I don’t care if you think he’s shitty, he’s my dad and I want him to care about me as much as him!”

Gavin didn’t answer for a moment, letting [Connor] calm down and take a few breaths after his outburst. “It sucks being the consolation prize doesn’t it?” 

[Connor] scoffed. “Yeah. It does.” Somehow that’s what made him feel better. Not empty words about how Hank loved him just as much when he didn’t. Not any promises that it will get better. Just validation. This is the way it is. And it sucks. 

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, neither of them speaking until, finally, Gavin stood up. “Let’s get back to work.”


End file.
